Love and Limerence
by heidipoo
Summary: Hoping his next novel will be a hit, Brock moves to Ireland with his college buddy Nogla for inspiration. There, he meets Brian; an aspiring artist who may just be able to give Brock all the muse he needs. Or better yet, will they inspire each other? AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hola lovely readers, I'm back again with another Terrornuckel multichapter. Fools is still a work in progress, but I figured you all needed something light and fluffy considering that story is so angsty. Anyway, this is written with my partner in crime, AngelZ of DarKness, and we are both on tumblr so you can follow us over there. Send in requests if you have them, and I hope you all enjoy this fanfic.**

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Brock's bags were packed and leaned up against the wall in the tiny living room as he rushed around the house, phone pressed to his ear, listening to Nogla's blurred voice as he tried to remember if he was forgetting anything important. He stopped for a moment, free hand rubbing the back of his neck as he exhaled. Moving was overwhelming to say the least, and albeit so, Brock didn't really have a choice at the moment. His career was thriving, and he had to produce something worth reading fast, or his writing success would be gone just as fast as it had come.

His small house was nearly empty as he had packed his most important things to bring with him on his travels. He had to keep reminding himself that this trip was important; it was for research, for information. Nogla still blabbered loudly in his ear, but finally shut up when Brock interrupted him. "Are you sure it's okay if I stay with you?" He inquired, as he picked his laptop up from the kitchen table and shoved it down into his suitcase. He couldn't forget that, it was the most important thing he needed. What writer could go without their laptop?

Immediately, he could hear Nogla scoffing on the other line. "Of course it's okay!" His Irish accent was loud, obnoxious. "It'll be just like college! The good old days!" He chuckled awkwardly, while Brock sighed in annoyance on the other line. "Just relax... I'll be here waiting at the airport to pick you up. You'll love Ireland." He concluded.

"I'm excited to see you man," Brock paused to look at his house once more. He would be back as soon as he finished writing the book but for some reason, in the back of his mind, he felt like this was going to be a final goodbye to this place. "At least in college, I wasn't ten hours away from my home." He pointed out. Picking up his suitcase, he headed towards the front door. "I'm heading to the airport now." He said, bidding his place one last goodbye. He was sure he'd like Ireland, but he still couldn't help but to feel anxious.

"Hopefully after four years, you can still recognize me. I have a beard now," The Irishman chuckled. "Have a safe trip. Get a lot of sleep, the day is going to be long."

Brock stepped out and looked up at the rising sun, "I'm sure I'll be able to recognize you. You better be at the airport too, serious Nogla." He warned and then sighed. He was just nervous was all, his life in america was going on hold for a bit. He just hoped he didn't get homesick.

"I will be!" The younger man replied.

He rolled his eyes, "Goodbye." Ending the phone call with his old friend, Brock got in the waiting taxi and headed towards the airport.

It was a short one, and Brock couldn't help but to feel just a bit nostalgic as he took in all the Utah surroundings just one last time before he went on his way. When the airport came into view, his anxiety grew even more if that were possible. Flying had never been something that he enjoyed, and it always made him sick afterward, which was not something he was looking forward to. Nonetheless though, he paid the cab driver, and with his luggage in tow, he entered the big building and found his departing flight gate.

It was always a nuisance, flying and what not. And airport security was just a huge hassle these days, but Brock tried to remain positive about this. Ireland was a great place, he'd see new places, meet new people, and reacquaint himself with his college roommate whom he hadn't seen in a long time. All in all, the good outweighed the bad, and despite his anxiety, Brock was excited. But after what felt like forever, he was finally able to get through his flight gate and board the plane, settling into his seat quite comfortably, and trying to mentally prepare himself for this extremely long flight.

An extremely long flight it was. But the couple of martinis he had drank during the trip had made it a tad bit more enjoyable. Even the older man that had been sitting next to him had been able to keep up a great conversation. Getting his luggage, he found himself looking around. He had no idea where Nogla would be, but the other did say he would be here, and he hoped he would keep true to his word. Walking around, his head moved back and forth until finally he spotted him at the front of the airport, and Brock heard him call out his name as well. "Brock!" Nogla nearly yelled. Smiling widely, Brock headed over to see the Irishman holding up a sign. _White Utah Boy._

"Seriously?"

Nogla was wearing a matching smile and held his arms open, "Well come on in, it's been quite a while hasn't it?" He questioned.

Brock chuckled and hugged the other, "How have you been? I figured if you were still the same guy I knew in college, you would have slept through my arrival." He pointed out, his hand slapping down on Nogla's shoulder.

The younger man scoffed, almost playfully. "Brock, please, I am a changed man now."

"I'm sure you are." Brock retorted. "Nice sign, by the way." He rolled his eyes.

"I figured you'd like that." Nogla said simply.

"Still the same asshole I see." Brock muttered jokingly and all Nogla could do was laugh at his american friend as he led him out of the airport and to his small car parked out front. They climbed inside, and Brock had to admit, he was liking the looks of Ireland already. The weather was fair, the people looked friendly enough, and overall, he just couldn't wait to experience it all. Nogla started the car and pulled away from the airport as Brock attempted to strike up a conversation with his old friend. "So really, what have you been up to?" He asked.

"Working, mostly." Nogla answered immediately as he drove.

"Oh yeah?" Brock inquired.

The younger man nodded in return, "Bar tending." He then snorted a laugh. "College didn't turn out to do shite for me, but I'm glad you're getting something out of it… Being a writer and all."

"It's not that big of a deal," Brock attempted to say.

"You're probably tired, huh?"

"After that ten hour flight, yes." Brock answered simply. "The jet lag is real."

Nogla chuckled, "The bed in my spare bedroom is kind of firm so I hope that's alright."

"That's fine, as long as it's not a plane seat, it will work." He assured.

The Irishman nodded as they headed to his little house. He turned on the radio, it playing songs Brock had never heard before. "Tomorrow I can show you the best of Dublin, we can head to the a pub to celebrate your arrival tomorrow too." He started to explained. "Maybe later you can tell me about this book you're writing too."

Brock nodded, "Not much to say but of course man."

Moments later, they were pulling into a driveway in front of a small house. Nogla helped Brock with his luggage as he led him inside, ready and willing to give him a tour. "Welcome to my home!" The younger man almost yelled as he shut the door behind them. The house was one story, tiny, but it was homey, and Brock liked the looks of it already. The living room and kitchen were connected, a small dining table separating them if only slightly, and a short hallway led to the bedrooms and bathroom. "Your room is right there," Nogla pointed as he briefly showed Brock around the house.

The older man nodded, "Thank you." He said. "I don't mean to be rude, but I think I'm gonna head to bed now." He headed into the room, standing in the doorway for a moment. "I'll see you when I wake up."

Nogla bid him farewell, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Gotcha." Brock replied, before shutting his door, and falling face first into the bed. The smell of something delicious was strong enough to wake him from his rest hours later, his stomach growling was as loud as his alarm clock. Groaning, he rolled on his back and cracked his eyes open. The room was coated in darkness, how much time had passed? Feeling around lazily, he located his phone. Squinting at the bright screen, he saw it was nine at night. Groaning, he sat up and ran his hand through his messy hair. He felt much better after getting all of that sleep. Standing, he made his way out of the bedroom and followed the smell until he reached the kitchen. Seeing Nogla leaning over the stove, he smiled slightly. "You learned to cook?"

Nogla jumped slightly and turned to frown at the other. "Gave me a heart attack!" He turned back and nodded. "I decided to cook for you before I headed to work. Soup my mum used to make me as a wee child."

"Well it smells great." Brock commented as he took a seat at the small table.

"How'd you sleep?" The Irishman questioned.

"Pretty good," The older man answered with a nod. "My sleep schedule might be a little messed up, but I'll be alright..." He trailed off, mostly talking to himself. He then looked up at Nogla who was still busy cooking away. "You're going to be gone all night, aren't you?"

He merely nodded, "Pub doesn't close until about three in the mornin'." Brock frowned at his answer. He knew Nogla had to go to work, but he didn't like the idea of him being home alone in this new place by himself. It was completely foreign to him, and he wasn't sure what he was going to do to keep his time occupied. However, it was as if Nogla could read his mind when he spoke again, "You'll be alright. You can get some writing done, yeah?"

"Yeah." Brock agreed.

Nogla smiled as he poured Brock a bowl, "Eat as much as you want, just save me at least one bowl." He told him as he carried the bowl over to the table. "Do whatever you want, there are no rules here except girls. I don't want to hear any of that." He added with a small groan.

Brock found himself laughing, "I really doubt that will be a problem." He wasn't even the tad bit interested in women, Nogla hadn't said anything about men though. "Have a fun night at work." He called out, seeing Nogla throwing on his coat.

The Irishman smiled, "If I return with a black eye, you know it was." He explained, his smile stretching. Brock chuckled and listened to the door shut. Now he really was alone. Taking a bite of the soup, a sigh blew passed his lips. This soup was really good. Nogla sure was different than he was in college, but maybe that was a good thing. He was definitely more mature and a better cook. With a small smile, Brock shook his head thinking about his tall friend. Ireland wouldn't be so bad, hell, he was already starting to like it here.

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 **Author's Note: To be continued...?**


	2. Chapter 2

After finishing his two bowls of soup and cleaning up the food mess, Brock took it upon himself to start cleaning up the rest of the house. When Nogla returned, he would have to tell him how messy he really was. That part of him still stayed the same from college. Brock couldn't even count all the times where he'd come home to a more than messy dorm. Nogla was never the one to clean up after himself.

After cleaning, Brock took a shower and found himself sitting on the couch once everything was done. He figured a break was a good thing since he'd pretty much just cleaned the entire house. He was basically just staring ahead, thinking about everything. There was a lot to take in since he'd just arrived in Ireland yesterday. He had came all the way to Ireland to write a book taking place here. Sure he could have just researched everything to write it but wouldn't it be better to just come and experience it himself? So talking himself into it, he remembered Nogla and got back in touch with him. The guy was enough to offer his home to him. He wanted nothing in return except to help bring food into the place but nothing was wrong with that. Why was he thinking into this so much now? Maybe he was already becoming homesick. This was not very good.

Instead of getting lost in his thoughts, Brock decided that he should be at least somewhat productive while Nogla was at work, because sleep wasn't coming any time soon thanks to that lovely ten hour flight. So, without anymore further hesitation, he made himself a cup of coffee, and retrieved his laptop from his room to begin writing. He settled on the couch, legs tucked up underneath him, and opened a document to let the words flow.

Writing the first novel had been so easy, but anything he tried writing after that was much more difficult than he could have ever imagined. But Brock knew he couldn't complain much, it was just one of the struggles that came along with being a writer. That's why Ireland was a must; he was ready for a change, he was in need of a change. He needed inspiration and new things in his life to let the words be released from him. People were expecting a piece from him, but it was hard to say the least, when every sentence he wrote just didn't meet his own standards. And so he stared at the blank document, wondering just what he was going to write. He found himself stuck there on that couch, fingers unable to produce a single syllable, until Nogla came walking into the house in the early morning hours. "You're still up?" His loud voice pulled Brock out of his trance, and he shut his laptop, ashamed that he wasn't able to produce anything.

He merely nodded, "I think my sleep schedule is pretty shot thanks to the flight."

Nogla nodded, as if he understood. "I'm sure it will go back to normal in a few days."

"How was work?" Brock inquired.

The Irishman shrugged, "Nothing special about it."

His lips grew to a smirk, "I don't see a black eye. So it was bad?"

Nogla looked around, "No, just a less violent night. You cleaned?" He asked, noticing the fresher smell. "I appreciate it."

Brock nodded, "It was the least I could do for you, I put the leftover soup in the fridge, would you like me to heat it up for you?" He asked, slowly getting up. His knees cracked from sitting for so long. Something that happened quite often during his writing sessions.

Nogla chuckled under his breath, "So this is what it's like having to come home to a wife, yeah?" He asked with a growing grin. "You wanna marry me and be my wife?"

Brock laughed loudly, shaking his head at his tall friend. This is why they had become friends long ago in the first place. They had the same sense of humor, and multiple things in common with each other. It was no secret why they always got along so well. "Not until you get me a ring first," He joked, grabbing his laptop from the couch. It was rather late, so maybe trying to go to sleep would be best, after all, he and Nogla had plans, and he didn't want to waste the day away by sleeping.

"Oh don't you worry, I will." Nogla winked. "But I'm not too hungry, don't worry about the soup."

Brock nodded, "Alright then, goodnight." He bid him farewell before heading to his room. Sleep barely managed to come but he found himself lured away into dream land after laying there for a good twenty minutes. When morning came, a small groan slipped passed his lips as the sun's lights beamed passed the cracks of the curtains. Blinking the tired out of his eyes, Brock slowly sat up. Scratching his head, he yawned. So he managed to sleep, which was surprising because of his messed up sleep schedule.

Today was going to be a busy day, so without any prolonging, he made himself get up, and he fixed the bed, before heading to the bathroom to shower. Of course, Nogla was still sleeping, the tall man was probably sleepy from work the previous night. The bathroom was smaller than he expected but it fit along with the rest of the smaller house. Seeing the shower curtain, he chuckled under his breath. He would have to tell Nogla how ugly it was. Stripping out of his clothes, he peered at himself in the mirror. He grimaced slightly at his appearance, he did not look too well with circles around his eyes. He really needed to get his sleep schedule fixed or his natural beauty would be at risk.

Turning back around, he looked at the shower. Blasting it to full heat, it actually felt nice to feel his skin burn. Sighing contently through his nose, he enjoyed the heat for a little longer before going to actually wash his hair and body. He thought it was slightly ironic to see Nogla's body wash had a clover on it. Chuckling to himself, he scrubbed his face. If anything, this would definitely wake him up.

Turning the shower off, he stepped out and grabbed a towel from the shelf. Rubbing it through his wet hair, he then wrapped it around his waist to head towards his room to get dressed. After finding some casual clothing, Brock glanced at the clock only to see that it was still early. Nogla would probably sleep for a long while due to work. Nonetheless, Brock thought it would be a good idea to cook his Irish friend breakfast in return for the soup he made for dinner last night. Making his way to the kitchen, he thought of things to cook. However, when he opened Nogla's fridge, the thing was nearly bare. He would definitely have to get some food in this place soon. "So… No breakfast then..." He mumbled to himself, before shutting the fridge. If Nogla didn't sleep in for too long, they might be able to go out for breakfast, and Brock would get to see the town.

As if being able to read his thoughts, Daithi soon came stumbling down the hallway in his sleepy stupor. "Morning," He greeted through a yawn, opening the fridge, pushing Brock out of the way. Without a second thought, the tall man grabbed the small container of orange juice and drank straight from the carton.

"That's sick." Brock commented.

Nogla sighed contently after chugging the liquid. Looking over, he chuckled. "I don't have anything so it's fine." He held it out, "Want an indirect kiss from your future husband?"

Brock scrunched his nose and lifted his hand, "Thanks but no thanks." He looked over at the clock on the wall, "I was thinking we could go out and get something to eat for breakfast. I want to see what Dublin has to offer." He explained shortly.

Nogla yawned, "Sure but this place us just as exciting as America."

"Yeah, but you live here." Brock retorted.

"So do you," Nogla chuckled.

The older man rolled his eyes, "You know what I mean." He said. "Now go get dressed so we can go get something to eat, I'm hungry."

Nogla sighed, an exasperated sound leaving his lips. "God, so you're my mom now too?"

Brock shook his head, "Just a really bossy wife." He laughed, causing Nogla to let out a few chuckles himself. But he obliged to Brock's request, putting the juice back into the fridge and heading back to his room to ready himself for the day. Knowing Brock, the man would want to venture out everywhere. But Daithi didn't blame him; this was is first official full day in Ireland, he had every right to be excited about it.

So Brock rested his body against the counter as he waited patiently for the other to return. Maybe he should ask him to stop a the grocery store, if he bought food, that could be something he could do to return the favor for him letting him stay at his house. Hopefully they would have time to do so. When his roommate finally returned, he straightened himself out. "Alright, I'm here."

"You ready to go?" Brock asked, his lips slowly becoming a smile. He didn't want to seem too eager but he was really feeling it. It was exciting to be in a new place.

Nogla nodded, "I'm as ready as I ever can be." He scratched at his beard and sniffed, clearing his nose. "Let's go on my world famous tour." His voice was sounding opposite of Brock's, his was dead and tired. They exited the house, Nogla locking the door behind them, and began down the sidewalk from the tiny house. For a place with ever changing weather, Ireland was quite fair today, the sun shining down brightly on the two men as they walked. Everything was relatively close to Nogla's house, so they could walk without any problems. "Welcome to Dublin," Nogla began, clearing his throat. "This is the sidewalk." He gestured to the ground.

"Wow," Brock replied. "We don't have those in America." He stated sarcastically, earning a look from the Irishman. "Are you going to be an asshole the whole time?" He questioned.

"I mean…?" Daithi trailed off as he answered. "It's kind of my job."

Brock laughed, "By all means, continue with your tour then."

"Alright, follow me for the best breakfast you'll ever eat." He gestured as he walked along the hard ground, Brock pleasantly following behind him, listening as Nogla rambled on about stupid things. He commented on the streetlights, the signs and what not, and all Brock could do was scoff and roll his eyes until they finally arrived to the small, cafe like diner where they would be eating.


	3. Chapter 3

"You know..." Brock started slowly as he dug his fork into a thick piece of bacon. "I never would have thought you guys would eat such a large breakfast. There is so much meat!" He said through chewing his food. Breakfast was indeed his favorite meal, but he had never eaten a breakfast quite like this. It was different than anything he had ever tasted. Nevertheless, it was still good, and he was sure he could get used to eating breakfast like this everyday. Good job Ireland.

Daithi chuckled under his breath, "You know how the sayin' goes. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a poor man. We just emphasize on the breakfast part." He explained, eating his own egg.

"I'm not even halfway done and I'm already stuffed. I'm enjoying this place already too much." Brock laughed as he continued stuffing his face. But again, he concluded he could get used to eating breakfast like this everyday; however, he wasn't sure about the meat part though. Hell, maybe he could get used to that too. A little meat was good for the body. But they continued to eat, breakfast still being their first stop, per say, in the little tour that Daithi had planned for just the two of them.

They ate in silence for a short while, the only sound being them chewing their food, until finally, Nogla interrupted the silence by burping, before he spoke. "So, what do you want to see first? I'm sure you didn't just come here for the food." Nogla asked, pointing his fork at him.

Brock smiled slightly, "I want to visit some of the popular places, the places people enjoy visiting to sight see." He was eager to begin his day here in Ireland, and he was sure there was so much to see and do.

Nogla nodded slowly, "Sure sure. Just be warned, tourists enjoy taking over those areas with their flashing cameras and their strange languages." He looked away, "But I'm sure I can show you a few places that aren't so crowded." He continued to speak, food still in his mouth somewhat.

He nodded, "I'll be happy if I can see anything. This place was a great start so thanks for taking me here." Pushing his plate away, he patted his stomach. "Just give me a moment to collect myself before we start our journey. I think I'll throw up if I try to stand." A few moments had passed after that, but once the two were done with their huge breakfast, they paid and readied to leave. Brock walked beside Nogla as they walked the lightly crowded streets of Dublin. The first stop after their breakfast was the Dublin zoo. Daithi didn't think much of it, so he took Brock there first. It wasn't very expensive and the two men had a nice time roaming and viewing all the animals. Brock was so overwhelmed with everything, he didn't know where to look!

"Ye enjoying yourself?" Nogla inquired.

The older man nodded as they strolled the sidewalk, "Yeah… I just didn't think this place had so much to offer." He answered, being completely honest with himself.

"This is only the beginning." Nogla grinned.

Brock sighed, "Hopefully I'll be able to have enough energy for the rest of the day." He was already beginning to grow tired from walking around and getting a feel for everything. However, if he was sure about anything already, it was that he really liked Dublin so far, and he was going to enjoy living here immensely. There was still so much for him to see and do. Maybe, just maybe, moving here was the right thing to do after all; he was hoping that his writing would flourish.

Nogla chuckled under his breath, "I'm sure you'll be fine. We're saving the most popular spots for last because like I said, I don't want to be surrounded by the tourists." He said.

Brock nodded, "I wouldn't either, maybe if we go later, there will be less of them." He suggested with a slight shrug.

The Irishman soon led the other off of the sidewalk and crossed the road. "Maybe after all this sight seeing, we can stop at one of my favorite pubs. I can call off work for today, we can drink to our heart's content. Sound good?" He asked, one of his bushy brows raising. A drink with his college buddy had been long overdue, and they were sure to have a good time tonight, even if they did get a little too drunk.

Brock smiled slightly, "Only if you're buying. Drinking was never my strong suit so don't expect me to get wasted with you." He warned and stared back ahead. He didn't like to admit that he was a lightweight to other people but he wasn't about to act like a fool to make it seem like he wasn't. Drunk Brock was something else, and Nogla knew that already, from their days of sharing a room in college.

"Of course I'll buy my wife a drink," Nogla laughed.

"That joke's getting old already."

"Shut up." He replied, before changing the subject, "It'll be just like the old days again, eh?" He chuckled, nudging Brock in the side, and the older man could only shake his head and laugh as they continued their walk. He didn't like to think about all the times he got so drunk in college he couldn't remember what he did the very next day. He liked to suppress those memories the best that he could. But he always was the life of the party.

They left the zoo, heading to one of the many museums in Dublin next. It wasn't one of the popular ones, so tourism wasn't a problem. Nogla was the excellent tour guide, showing Brock around and giving him a bit of Irish history. "You really know your stuff." Brock commented as he looked around.

"I have lived here all my life," Nogla pointed out, dragging it out to show how obvious it was.

Brock rolled his eyes, "That doesn't mean anything. You really think I could name all fifty presidents? I've lived in America all my life and I don't know that." He pointed out as a matter of fact.

Daithi stiffened a laugh, "I'm Irish and I know that there have been only forty three presidents." He laughed, making fun of the other man. The museum was a short stop before they left there and headed on their way to a new location. It was nearing mid afternoon, and the streets were wearing thin because people were returning home. The sun was high in the sky on this fair Ireland day, and Brock had still yet to see most of the town. There were many buildings, big ones, small ones, ranging in different height and what not. However, one in particular caught his attention. It was a shopping center of some sort, almost like a mall, and he made a mental note of it so he could visit it some other time.

"So, where to next?" The older man inquired as he and Nogla ventured the sidewalk some more.

"Lunch?" Daithi suggested.

Brock laughed, "I'm still pretty full from breakfast actually."

Nogla scoffed, "Impossible! I could eat two more of those breakfasts and be fine!" His shoulders slumped, "I guess we can wait until later to eat."

Brock smiled slightly, "I see you still love to eat." He looked forward before suddenly looking back. His college buddy had yet to change if he were being honest with himself, and he was glad. It was still the same old Nogla that he had come to love. "Speaking of food, is there a place I could shop? I want to fill up your cupboards since you basically have nothing." He explained shortly. "I haven't seen anything yet in this little tour." However, the shopping center he saw earlier, did come into mind. It seemed interesting enough.

The taller man waived it off, "Aw don't worry about that right now, just enjoy yourself. You can grocery shop later." He added.

"Alright then," Brock replied. "Lead the way." And despite his protests about being full, the two went to lunch anyway. It was a small outdoor cafe, sun high in the sky as they looked at the menus, pondering just what to order. The meals were oddly named, and Brock was trying to figure out what in the world some of them were. Maybe he could learn these Irish meals, and cook them at home.

Nogla sat his menu down, "I promise you that lunch isn't as big as our breakfast. I'm just getting a burger and some fried potatoes." He explained, his finger typing lightly on the picture of a potato.

Brock was still looking over his menu, "So I have to know man, is it true what they say about the potato thing? You guys do have that stereotype." He explained, not wanting it to seem like he was insulting the other man.

He snorted, "The potato thing?" He laughed. "The Irish are known for their love for potatoes but its not like we obsess over them or anything. It's just a side dish we eat for all of out meals. I mean a potato could be turned into many different things." He explained as he sat back into his chair. "Ask another Irish man, he might have gotten upset. But since you asked me, Ill be honest. I love potatoes." He then leaned forward, "Potatoes are my life."

Brock laughed at him and decided on the grilled cheese. "You're an idiot." Noticing their waitress heading towards them, he cleared his throat. So far this place was absolutely wonderful. They ate their lunch quickly, Brock only eating half of his sandwich. After that, there was only one more place Nogla wanted to show him.

"I figured this could be a great place for you to write in case you wanted to get out of the house. It's only about a five minute walk from the house so its not bad either." Nogla explained as he took a seat on a bench.

Brock sat down next to him and looked around. They were at a park, a very large on at that. Bright green grass surrounded them, up ahead was a small bridge and a small river under it. Children ran, laughing and playing while dogs chased after frisbees and balls. A small smile formed on his lips, "This place is nice. Thanks for showing it to me."

The Irishman sighed softly as he stretched his limbs out in front of him. "Alright, how about we head back home and relax for the next few hours before we enjoy the night out?" He suggested as he stood back up.

Brock nodded, "That sounds like a plan." The walk back home was a short one, both men's bodies full of food, and Brock felt himself growing sleepy as they walked. He never at this much. But nonetheless, they finally made it back home, and relaxed on the sofas in small chit chat before it was considered late enough to go to the bar. After Nogla had made sure his boss was okay with him missing work that night, they two ventured back out onto the near empty streets as the sun set low in the sky. Dublin was truly beautiful at night, and Brock absolutely loved it. Everything was so lit up, so alive. Nogla's favorite pub was just around the way, and even though Brock wasn't a big drinker, he was actually pretty excited to be drinking Irish brewed beer.


	4. Chapter 4

Brock couldn't believe it, "How many of your stereotypes are true?" He asked in disbelief, seeing way too many Irishmen getting their drink on. There was even a fight going on in the corner, someone was trying to break them up he thought, or maybe they were joining in. He couldn't tell.

"Mostly all of them." Nogla laughed loudly before slapping money onto the bar. "Two beers." He yelled over all the other noise happening.

Brock was still looking around, amazed by everything around him. "I don't know if I'm supposed to be terrified or just simply amazed." He explained before feeling a glass pushed into his chest, looking down, he stared at the light brown, fuzzy liquid. "Why is it so big?" He asked, staring down at the glass.

Daithi chuckled and took a sip of his own glass, "Don't think you can handle them?" He asked with a brow raising. "We Irish can handle six or seven of these and still walk a straight line. If you can't handle it, I'm sure they sell wine coolers for the females." He teased.

"Is that a challenge?" Brock inquired, raising a brow.

"Maybe," Nogla smirked. "But you're bound to lose."

"You're on." Brock replied, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a huge chug. The liquid burned as it rushed down his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he went out for a drink. He was usually too busy with writing, or just didn't have the stomach for alcohol. He knew the challenge was a bad idea, but he couldn't help it; his masculinity had gotten the best of him, he had to beat Nogla. It'd be just like college all over again, and he was such a lightweight, he was bound to be drunk soon.

It was about the third glass in that Nogla stopped drinking, he just watched in amusement as his friend just kept going. He knew he wouldn't last much longer so he slapped his hand onto Brock's shoulder and grinned, "Alright, you beat me. I don't think I can even stand up." He lied, his smile growing.

Brock turned and had his own heated grin, "I told you!" He shot up from his stool and almost fell over, Nogla helped rebalanced him. "I knew I could do it!" He yelled again, drunken smile never leaving his lips.

The Irishman could only roll his eyes at his severely drunken friend. Was he a bad person for letting Brock get this drunk? Nah. He concluded that the older man needed to have a good time. Hell, he was still new to Dublin, he had to experience it all, and that meant being drunk off Irish beer more than anything. "How you feeling?" He inquired, patting the older man's shoulder once more as he wobbled on the bar stool.

Brock laughed, "I feel like I could drink more beer." He slurred out.

Nogla got a good chuckle out of that, "How 'bout a glass a water first?" He suggested, if Brock yelled at him the next day, he could at least say he tried to help his friend out. "You stay right here and do not move a single muscle. I'm serious, I'll kick your arse if you do." He warned before walking away, only glancing back once to make sure the other was still there. Brock sighed and stared ahead, knowing Nogla, he was going to forget what he sought for and get distracted by some woman or something. Resting his chin on the bar, he blew air out of his lips. He really wanted some more beer.

A few moments later, a stool next to him made a scratching sound as it moved, Brock turned his head and squinted to see who took the seat next to him. His brows rose at the handsome brunette, what a fucking stud muffin! He found himself laughing at himself as he stared at the guy. But being in the drunken state he was, he blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only ten I see," His drunken speech allowed him to get out, and he couldn't help but to laugh at himself afterwards. That might have just been the corniest thing he's ever said in his life.

The stranger turned his head slightly to look at Brock, an amused grin on his face. "I'm from Dublin." He answered, voice laced with an Irish lilt that was much more attractive than Nogla's, Brock was taken aback. And when the stranger made eye contact with him, he felt like he was frozen in his space as the blue crystals engraved themselves into his skin.

Brock rolled his eyes, "I _know_ you're not from Tennessee, that was a pick up line," He drawled out.

The stranger could clearly tell that Brock was drunk, so ultimately, he decided to fuck with him. "So you're hitting on me?" He inquired, prominent smirk still there, and still whiter than ever. Brock was blinded by his smile as he stared on, eyes glassy from his state of inebriation.

Brock rocked back in his stool, catching himself quickly before he fell over. "That's not the only thing I'd do to you." He wiggled his brows before letting out a loud laugh. He then leaned close, the alcohol giving him a large boost of self esteem. "Is your name Summer because damn, you are hot as hell." He got out once more. He had plenty more where that came from, as long as this handsome stranger continued to enjoy them.

The stranger chuckled as he looked on at Brock, "Summer? Close but unfortunately not. Brian's the name. And who are you?" He asked, a brow raising.

Brock grinned, "Brian? My names Brock!" He suddenly got excited. "Your name starts with a B. Mine too. Whoa." He then looked around and sighed, still craving another beer like no other. He looked back at Brian. "You couldn't possibly get me a beer could you? My friend went to get me one but I have no idea where he went." He explained, his excitement dying.

Brian could only let out a laugh, leaning in towards Brock, "Oh I see what you're doing now," He joked. "Flirtin' with me so I'd buy you beer. What kind of guy do you think I am?" He teased.

Brock's eyes widened, obviously surprised, "No! I just..." He wracked his brain for some sort of excuse, but couldn't find any. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that," He slurred. "I just really wanted some beer," He laughed.

"Relax," Brian grinned. "I'm just kidding." He then eyed the multitude of empty glasses that were in front of the man he just met. No wonder why he was so drunk already. "Don't you think you've had enough?" He inquired, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to be responsible for something happening to this man he just met.

"That's what my other friend said," Brock huffed in return.

"Alright alright, don't get your panties in a bunch, I'll get you a beer." He replied. " _One_ beer," He emphasized.

The grin returned to Brocks lips, "Awesome!" He pushed his old glasses to the side as if to make way for the new one. Nogla still hadn't returned, so he took this upon himself to make conversation with the new handsome Irishman beside him. "So Brian." He said the other's name with a different tone, dragging it out. "Did you come with someone?" He asked, looking around to see if anyone was next to him. There wasn't, and a small part of him was really glad. That meant he had Brian all to himself.

"Just my lonesome self." Brian explained, lifting his finger to catch the bartenders attention. "Figured a beer or two would make my night a little better. Didn't think I would get a side order of entertainment." He smirked slightly, "So, you obviously aren't Irish, where are you from?" He asked, changing the subject.

Brock groaned, "Utah." The state came out in distaste. "But now I'm here, hoping that I can continue my career. If not, then-" His face suddenly fell, hitting the bar. "I'm going to throw up." He said calmly, lifting his head if only slightly, just to get dizzy again. This is why he didn't drink, and right about now, he was pissed at Nogla for letting him drink so much.

Brian tried not to panic, "Please, don't puke on me..." He got out through nervous laughter. "I can help you to the bathroom, and then to find your friend?" He spoke quickly, but Brock only nodded before the slightly taller man was pulling him off his stool and through the drunken crowd of the bar. He was tripping over his own feet, making the task difficult, and of course the bathrooms had to be in the back of the bar, but finally, they made it. Brock made a bee line for the toilet, before lifting the lid and getting rid of the contents in his stomach.

"You can go now..." He managed to get out through puking, talking to Brian who lingered in the doorway of the restroom.

The other remained at the door, his hands in his pockets as he waited for the guy he just met to finish throwing up. "I doubt you can find your friend in the state you are in. Just tell me what he looks like." He flinched when hearing Brock gag. "I mean, after you're done with that." He added quickly.

It was a few minutes later when Brock stumbled out, his had wiping his mouth. "He looks like a stupid, tall Irish guy. And he has a stupid face." He groaned lowly, "I'm going to kill him."

Brian smiled, grabbing Brock's arm to steady him. He seemed to have sobered up just a little bit, so that was a good thing. "Are you alright?" He inquired. "I'm pretty sure you just puked your intestines into the toilet." He attempted to joke as he and the older man made their way out of the bathroom.

Brock couldn't help but to shake his head as he tried to look around for any sign of Nogla, "I'm fine… Just a lightweight," He admitted, slightly embarrassed. "I don't drink that often… And when I do, this happens."

"I mean... At least you didn't embarrass yourself in front of everyone. My eighteenth birthday, I kissed the bartender's girlfriend and caused a big fight. That was embarrassing." He chuckled, trying to make the other feel better.

Brock rose a brow and rubbed the back of his neck. Of course the cute guy would be straight… That was just his luck. "His girlfriend?" He let out an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry for hitting on you man. I guess that does make straight people feel uncomfortable." He continued laughing, he cheeks burning.

Brian couldn't help but to smile, his eyebrows raising as he let a lilt come into his voice, "I never said I was straight," He got out, stopping to look at Brock, who was still slightly tipsy.

"Oh?" Brock inquired, but as soon as he managed to say that, Nogla came running up to him, grabbing onto his free arm.

"Oh hey Brock!" He said, nearly out of breath. "I've been looking everywhere for you! We gotta go." His dark eyes made his way to Brian, who he seemed to look passed the first time. "And I see you've made a new friend! Good job!" He pat him on the back, smiling a drunken grin, "But we really have to go." Nogla told him, pulling him away from his new Irish friend.

Brock looked back at Brian, who looked slightly upset. "But I wasn't finished talking to him!" He pouted. Once they were out of the bar, he pulled from Nogla and frowned. "Dude, that guy was hot. I didn't even get his number." He grumbled.

"Ah quit whining, there's plenty of fish in the sea."


	5. Chapter 5

When morning time came, Brock couldn't make himself open his eyes. Recollections of yesterday filtered through his mind, and he wasn't sure how he got into his bed, or into pajamas for that matter. In fact, how the hell did he even get home? His head pounded, and he knew he couldn't open his eyes or it would only get to be a thousand times worse. Why did he let Nogla talk him into drinking? It was always a bad idea, and he hadn't been this drunk to where he couldn't remember anything since college. But this usually happened every time he drank; he woke up with a hangover and promises of never getting drunk ever again.

If he tried to remember anything, it only caused him to be lightheaded and in pain. The only thing that did come to him on its own was the face of that attractive stranger he met at the bar. Or was it on his way home? He couldn't remember that either. Groaning, he forced himself into a sitting position. His head swirled, he had to hold the bed to keep him balanced. God, today was going to be awful if he had to deal with a hangover like this. He could already tell he wouldn't be able to concentrate enough to get any writing done at all.

"I'm seriously going to kill him." He huffed. Feeling around for his phone, his lids cracked open to see the time. It was six at night! How in the world did he sleep through all that! He seriously slept the entire day away. Sighing through his nose, he stood and held his forehead as he walked out of the room. Heading towards the living room, he could hear the TV playing what sounded like news. Seeing Nogla sitting on the couch, he glared at the back of his head. "I see you're doing well." He huffed, not even trying to hide the distaste in his voice.

Nogla didn't even turn to acknowledge him, "I'll give you American beer next time." He then laughed, "You at least enjoyed yourself last night." Finally turning, his grin was obvious.

Brock pressed his lips together, he must have had a good time last night since he didn't recall it. Shuffling his feet towards the kitchen, he went straight to the fridge. Pulling out the only drink inside, he just went straight to drinking the orange juice from the bottom. He gave no shits at the moment. Nogla's germs couldn't even make him feel worse than he already had. "I'm going shopping today just so you know. Do you have the number to the taxi service?" He called.

"Sure!" Nogla called back. "Just be warned, the taxi stops running at about nine."

Brock shook his head, who would take two or more hours to shop? "Thanks for the warning." He said, brushing it off. He got the number from Nogla, and headed back to his room to get ready. A quick shower was a must, and then he brushed his teeth thoroughly, trying to rid the aftertaste of beer that seemed to be engraved on his tongue. Gathering his things, he headed to the front door, bidding Nogla goodbye. "I'll be home later." He said.

"I'll be at work when you get back," Nogla reminded.

"Oh yeah," Brock said, still adjusting to this new schedule, this new life. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yep," Nogla nodded, "See you tomorrow."

Brock left the house without another word, and if he were being honest with himself, he felt a bit odd to be out on his own since it was the first time since he'd arrived in Dublin. But nevertheless, he knew he'd have to get used to it eventually. First things first, he needed to get some aspirin for this damned headache. Did they have aspirin in Ireland? He couldn't even think straight, but he tried to recall a place where he could get some shopping done; and as if he had an epiphany of some sort, he managed to remember the shopping center he saw when he was with Nogla the previous day. He was surprised he was able to recollect it in his hungover state.

He walked in the familiar path, deciding he would wait to take a cab on his way back home. It was too nice of a day to waste it away by being in the back of a car, even though he had already wasted it away by sleeping. He still couldn't believe Nogla convinced him to get that drunk. Brock vowed to himself that he'd get even some day. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he noticed a lot of other people were walking also. At least in this part of Dublin, it looked like people didn't depend solely on vehicles. Saying hello to a few passing citizens, he put a bit more pep in his step. All this fresh air was making him feel slightly better. Compared to Utah, this place seemed like paradise.

It was about ten minutes later that he finally saw the shopping center he had seen the day before. He almost thought he was lost, that wasn't good at all. Heading inside, he heard the soft sound of music above his head. This shopping center wasn't like the regular mall in America. It was kind of like it except all the stores had their own thing inside. It would take a bit before he could find the grocery section. Stopping, he looked at all the cash registers. This place was freaking huge. Maybe he'd be here for more than two hours after all, at least, that was the thought that was running through his head as he observed the place.

The crowds of people were thinning as he walked, meaning that it was getting later and later by each moment that passed. Instead of looking for groceries like he told Nogla, Brock was preoccupied by many other things. Ireland had so much cool stuff! He couldn't believe everything he was seeing as he walked around, trying to get familiar with the place. But if there was one thing for sure, he knew he could definitely get used to all this.

The first thing that really occupied him; office supplies. He loved looking at pens and pencils so much it wasn't funny. Call him weird but that was just the way he was. Maybe that was the writer in him that brought that particular aspect out. Picking up one pack of pens, he stared at it. He wanted it. Throwing it in his basket, he figured another pack wouldn't hurt anyone. Besides, he was a writer, wasn't he?

Throwing a few more utensils and packs of paper in his cart, he left the small shop to avoid spending his entire bank account. Taking a few steps, he noticed a plant store. Pausing, the turned and entered. Maybe Nogla would like a cactus. It fit his personality. He continued doing this, store by store until he had a full cart. As he walked, he stared down at his items in shame. He seriously had a problem. There still was a slight amount of room for groceries. Kind of. He'd make it fit.

Smiling to himself, he headed towards the other end in hopes of finding groceries. However, it was getting later, and Brock hadn't realized just how much time had passed. Nonetheless though, he kept at it. But on his search for groceries, he seemed to have stumbled across a part of the shopping center that he hadn't seen before. There were small booths, each run by different people and different things, and this only meant that there was even more stuff to look at! He began making his way around, when he realized he was never going to get his grocery shopping done. And now he had an even bigger problem. He had no idea where he was, and he was lost.

He tried to remember how he got into the shopping center in the first place, when suddenly, he heard someone call out his name, "Brock!" Immediately, his head whipped around, and he searched for the direction in which the voice came. He noticed a small booth, the last one in the line of the others. He then noticed a male staring at him, his hand waving him over. Confusion covered his expression. Was this man talking to him?

Heading over, his brows raised as he studied the mysterious booth that this man was at. Different drawings surrounding him, and they were actually quite good. Was this man an artist? "You're an amazing artist..." He then looked up, "But why do you know my name?" He asked confused. He was sure he'd never come across this man in his life, and he knew he'd remember, because this stranger was particularly handsome.

"You looked a bit lost," Brian gave a toothy grin, blue eyes glancing up to Brock. "Did you get home alright last night?" He inquired. He had to admit, sober Brock was even more pretty than drunk Brock, and he was a little upset he hadn't manged to get the man's number last night at the bar.

"Last night?" Brock questioned. "Do I know you?"

It took a moment before Brian's face straightened, "Don't tell me you don't remember." His voice sounded like all hope was lost. "Ah, well we met at the bar." His smile returned, his teeth glistening in the mall light. "You hit on me pretty hard." He continued to speak, nonchalantly, like it was no big deal.

"Did I use pick up lines?"

Brian nodded, "Actually yes."

Brock blinked before his lips parted, no words coming out. The face was a bit familiar, and suddenly, he had a surge of memory pass through him."You... Brandon? No... Brian." Noticing the raise of brows on the other, he knew he was right. He groaned, "I'm sorry about that. I get over obnoxious when I'm drunk." He explained, his cheeks warming up from the embarrassment. Goddamn Nogla, curse him for letting him get wasted and embarrass himself in front of cute guys.

Brian laughed, "Don't worry about it, it was... Well, cute." He chuckled for a lack of a better word, "I'm actually glad I am able to see you again. Yesterday was nice, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to hang out for a little bit after I'm off." He suggested cooly. He wanted the chance to get to know Brock, get the chance to really see what kind of person he was. After all, his friend had pulled him away rather quickly and Brian didn't have the chance to ask for his phone number before he ran out. "The store's closing in twenty minutes if you can wait." He said with a shrug.

Brock would have been red in the face of he wouldn't have really realized what the other had fully said. He didn't even really hear him asking him out, the only thing he could make out was that the store was going to be closing soon. "Twenty minutes?!" He repeated in shock. Feeling around for his phone, his skin paled when he saw the time. "Oh no." It was eleven. How had four hours passed? He couldn't possibly walk either since he had all this stuff. There was no way he was going to be able to get home, especially with the cab service being closed. He looked up at Brian with fear in his eye, "I am so fucked."

"So is that a no?" The younger man questioned playfully.

Brock was brought back to reality, "I'd like to… But another time would be better." He'd give anything to hang out with Brian, but he told Nogla he'd be home tonight, and he had yet to buy any groceries. He'd spent all his time shopping for other things.

"Can I ask why you're fucked then?" Brian inquired, causing a small smile from the other.


	6. Chapter 6

"I walked here," Brock explained, still feeling like a fool. "And I wasn't expecting to spend four hours here, and I definitely wasn't expecting to buy all that stuff." He explained as Brian listened with open ears. Internally, Brock couldn't believe the younger man had asked him out. Hell, it was only his third day in Dublin, and he had already managed to meet someone who he liked. Love wasn't on his list for his things to find here in Ireland, but if it came, he didn't mind.

Brian leaned forward, his elbows on the counter of the booth, "Do you need a ride?"

Flustered, Brock didn't know how to reply, "I couldn't possibly-"

"Don't worry about it." The Irishman smirked. He then looked over at the cart full of miscellaneous items and chuckled, "Why do you have a cactus? You Americans are so strange." He laughed.

Brock looked down at his stuff, "I still have to find groceries." He said before sighing softly. He only had like ten minutes to shop for food now. "Alright, I need to see if I can at least get something for us to eat. My roommate is going to starve us out if I don't get something." He pulled away but paused. "I'll meet you at the check out station?" He suggested before receiving a nod. He then rushed forward to the last place the groceries could be. He needed to hurry.

Luckily for him, the food was there. It didn't take him long before he started throwing things in the cart. This was something okay to go crazy about. Sure he didn't know what some of the foods were, but Nogla should so it was alright. After managing to get enough food for him to feel alright with, he rushed to check out. This was going to put a mark in his wallet but it would be fine, Nogla would probably yell at him.

As he made his way to the place to check out, he saw Brian waiting for there him, a cheeky smile on his face. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about him, something about him that made Brock think. And even though they had just met, he was being way too nice to him. Hell, they had only known each other for less than twenty four hours, and Brock couldn't even remember him fully. Nevertheless, he decided to push it out of his head for now, and worry about getting all this stuff home.

"Find everything you needed?" Brian inquired as he eyed the cart again.

Brock let out a chuckle, "I don't know what I found, but it's edible." He answered.

"So was that your roommate at the bar?" The Irishman asked as Brock began to check out.

He nodded, "Yeah, we're old friends… From college."

"No offense, but he seems like a dick."

"He can be." Brock replied with a shrug. After some more small talk, the two left the shopping center, with only a few cars remaining in the parking lot. It wasn't hard to figure out which was Brian's from his being the only one in the far back. "Just so you know, I really appreciate you doing all this for me." Brock reminded him as they put the many bags he had in the back seat. "I owe you a lot," He sighed softly. "If I didn't have such a bad shopping problem, I probably wouldn't be causing you so much trouble."

Brian smiled slightly, ""It's no problem at all. The way I see it, if you hadn't had this problem… I would not have gotten the chance to see you again." He explained shortly.

Brock rubbed the back of his neck, "Didn't really see it that way…" He climbed into the passenger seat of Brian's car, and waited for the younger man to get in as well. He should have been uncomfortable, he should have been freaking out at being alone with this man he had just met… But oddly, he was neither of those things. He couldn't really explain it, but Brian gave off a certain vibe, and Brock just felt comfortable around him. Hopefully, that was a good thing. As the Irishman began to drive, Brock navigated the way. "It's not too far away." He couldn't help but to sound apologetic as he spoke, he wasn't used to depending on people so much.

Brian nodded, focusing on the road. After giving it some thought, Brian spoke. "So at the bar, you said you came to Dublin to continue your career… What do you do?"

"I write… Or at least try to." Brock replied, a small smile coming to his face.

"Really?" Brian's eyebrows rose.

"Yes, really." The older man chuckled. "Why do you say that?"

"You just don't look the type, that's all." He shook his head.

"Well, what do you do?" Brock retorted.

"Didn't my beautiful artwork answer that question back at the mall?" Brian asked with a growing smile. "I'm a traveling artist, I art stuff." He explained with a smile. "Though, I wouldn't think Dublin was the best place to go to to write a book. Nothing really happens here. I would have went to Paris." He added.

Brock shrugged, "I knew Nogla and figured that anywhere but Utah would be better. So far I'm having a great time. New experiences." He nodded to himself. He then sat back in his seat, "You are an amazing artist, I'll give you that. Why don't you try to get your stuff put in museums? Why are you putting such great talent in a small stand?"

Brian frowned slightly, "I'm not really in it to get recognized. I just do it… For doing it. I don't know really how to explain it." He continued, sheepishly.

"That's admirable." Brock replied, before pointing to Nogla's house. "That's the one right there." He said, and Brian pulled up to the tiny house, parking and shutting the car off. Brock began digging around in his pockets for the house key. "Well, thank you, for everything." He got out, looking up at the younger man with his dark eyes.

"It's not a problem." Brian waived it off. "Do you want me to help you carry this stuff inside?"

"If you want..." Brock trailed off, still digging around for the key. However, when he couldn't find one, he began to panic. "Oh my god…"

Brian looked at him confused, "What is it now?" He asked.

Brock found himself laughing, "If only my night could get any worse!" He slapped his hand onto the car. "My roommate was so great enough that he actually forgot to make me a house key. Isn't that just wonderful?" He asked sarcastically before running his hand through his short hair. "I don't know what to do…" He made a mental note to let Nogla have it later… So far, he had proved to be a pretty useless roommate. Maybe Brock should have gave living with him a second thought.

Brian went over to him, "It'll be okay, Brock." He reassured before looking over at the house. "We could wait for him, what time do you think he'll be back?" He asked.

The other shook his head, "Not until at least four. He works the late shift." He closed his eyes to think about what he could possibly do. He got nothing. Of course this would end up happening to him, he was never the one for good luck. He felt embarrassed to say the least, and he couldn't believe that all of this was happening with a man he had only just met a day ago. He barely knew the guy and already he was having to depend on him for so much stuff. That was not a good sign in even the slightest.

"Look," Brian began. "I hate to be _that_ guy-"

"You've done enough tonight already," Brock interrupted shaking his head.

"You can stay over at my place tonight. I've got an extra bedroom, and I'll bring you home in the morning." He suggested. "It has to beat sitting outside all night," He continued, gesturing to Brock. And he knew that they had just met, and he had to admit that it was a little odd. But what else could he do? Brock was a nice guy, and he wanted to help in any way that he could. A smile then graced his lips, "I promise, I won't try anything." He added playfully. After all, he had just met the guy, of course they wouldn't do anything.

Brock noticed the glint in his eye, and he sighed. "Okay… But you have to let me pay you back somehow."

Brian nodded, "We can talk about that another time, alright? Lets just get back inside, it's cold." His breath being visible was enough to prove the point.

Brock gave one more look towards the house before doing as he was told. He was definitely going to kill Nogla when he saw him tomorrow. Crossing his arms, he huffed softly to himself. Nogla wasn't getting that cactus either. The ride was basically silent except for the soft sound of music coming from his radio. He didn't really know what to say now. He didn't really know what to do either. This wasn't like him, riding in a car with a stranger. This stranger in particular seemed nothing but nice. He couldn't help but trust him. "So..." He started slowly.

Brian glanced over, "So?" He questioned.

"Are you usually this nice to strangers?" Brock asked, looking over at the Irishman.

"Only cute ones." Brian said immediately, picking up on the blush covering Brock's cheeks. He was pretty cute, and maybe if he played his cards right, he could get a date out of him after all. He had turned him down at the mall, and Brian had to admit, it did hurt a little. But hell, they had just met, and they still had plenty of time to get to know each other. "I'm a nice guy, relax." He continued.

Brock let out a chuckle, "Is this weird to you at all though?"

Brian nodded, "Oh yeah definitely." He laughed as he drove. He actually didn't live too far away from Nogla and Brock, so that was a good thing. His little studio apartment came into view, "Just to warn you..." He started. "I'm a really messy person so I apologize in advance."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Brock replied.

"Just wait." Brian laughed. He pulled into the small parking lot, and shut off his car. "We should probably get your groceries and everything inside too." He added. "Wouldn't want them to ruin." They got out of the car, gathered Brock's stuff, and then headed inside.


	7. Chapter 7

The guy wasn't kidding when he said his place was messy. Brock had to try his hardest to keep his face blank while putting the cold items in the fridge. The sink was full of dirty dishes, god knows how long they had been there. "Thanks again." He said rushly before quickly making his way out of there. Even if he wanted to try to get fresh air, it was impossible. The living room had an open pizza box, only crusts left. Clothes littered the floor. He wanted to gag, how could anyone live like this? But most artists were messy, weren't they? At least, that's what Brock wanted to tell himself to make an excuse for the Irishman.

"You're worse than Nogla..." He found himself muttering.

"What's that?" Brian asked, carrying in the last bag and shutting the door behind him.

"Nothing," Brock grinned sheepishly.

"Hey," The Irishman said, "I told you it was messy… Don't worry though, the guest bedroom is clean."

"Thank god," Brock joked, as he finally got another good look at the younger man's apartment. His artwork was everywhere, and that was probably why he was so messy and disorganized. It was the artist in him making him out to be that way. "Wow..." He got out, eyes still drifting. "You're really good at that art thing," He said.

"You really think so?" Brian asked.

Brock nodded, "I really think so." He found himself staring at a painting of a flower he didn't recognize, "Would it be gay if I said this was beautiful?" He added jokingly.

"Yeah." Brian answered with a chuckle.

"Good." He replied with a smile, "I guess this is goodnight then." He said as an afterthought.

"Goodnight," Brian answered, bidding the older man a farewell.

The guest bedroom was much cleaner than the rest of the apartment, as promised. Probably from lack of use. Seeing he didn't intend on staying at a friend's house, Brock didn't really have anything to wear. So he decided to just sleep in his shirt and boxers. He had bid the Irishman a good night and he had left with no further words. So now Brock was just staring ahead at the ceiling, thinking about everything once more. This was definitely not where he had expected to be during his first week in Dublin, nevertheless though, he couldn't say he was unhappy about it.

Brian was a genuinely good guy, and nice. Brock was glad to have met him at the bar; and even though he was pissed at Nogla for getting him drunk, he was also a little happy to have went. If he wasn't drunk, he might not have worked up the courage to actually talk to Brian. So in a way, maybe Nogla hadn't royally fucked up this time. Either way, it was nice to already have another friend in Ireland this early to his arrival. Maybe now he wouldn't feel so alone with Nogla at work all the time.

With a sigh, Brock rolled over in the small guest bed. The sheets and pillows smelled like Brian, or his laundry soap, he couldn't tell. But he closed his eyes, and drifted to sleep. When he was awoken again, the clock on the nightstand read a little passed three in the morning. Brian's lilt of a voice echoed through the apartment, and Brock was curious as to why he was up this early, or probably late in his case. He climbed out of the bed, ignoring the fact that he was still in his boxers, and exited the guest bedroom.

Brian was in the living room, lights dim, and he was humming to himself as he painted away on a canvas in the middle of the room. Brock watched for a few moments as the younger man got immersed in his work before he finally spoke, voice carrying in from the hallway. "You're still up?" He inquired, laced with sleep. A yawn followed after, and he couldn't help but to subconsciously cover his mouth.

The Irishman stopped his painting before looking up to Brock, "Did I wake you? Sorry." He replied sheepishly. "Night's when I get most of my work done." He explained with a small shrug. It was when he was the most inspired, when he felt muse running through his body. And the fact that Brock was here with him, really didn't help.

"I couldn't sleep." Brock lied. "Your song was nice," He added, taking a few steps closer to see what he was painting.

Brian chuckled, resting his paint brush down. "My mom sang it to me as a child. Hard to forget." He explained with a small bit of a shrug. "There's leftovers of my dinner if you want any." He suggested.

Brock took a seat on the couch, his hand raising to decline the offer. "Thanks but no thanks. Haven't really had the hunger since coming here. That or the fact Nogla didn't have any food." He laughed at himself but then sighed, deciding to change the subject. "So Brian... Is painting the only thing you do or is there more you are fantastic at?" He asked with a raised brow.

The Irishman chuckled, "I mean, sure I guess. I tried pottery once, such a blast but quite messy. Could barely make a tea cup." He shook his head at himself. "I did sculpting during my first two years of college, haven't really done much since. Would love to try again." He picked his brush back up, wiping it and setting it down again, "I don't know, there's some things that just come easier to me." He tried to explain. "What about you?" He asked, picking up the brush once more. "Surely writing can't be easy." He said as he continued to paint.

Brock shook his head, "I've had writer's block for awhile now actually." He admitted.

"Ah," Brian grinned. "So the truth comes out."

Brock laughed and then shrugged, "Everyone has their days I guess… Sometimes I write a lot, and sometimes I don't get any writing done at all." He explained. And since he'd arrived in Dublin, he hadn't produced a single word, which also wasn't making him feel to good about himself. "I heard good things when it came to romance in Ireland. But the most I've seen out of this is drunk men fighting each other. Not much material to write a book."

Brian glanced back, "You write romance?" He asked and grinned when seeing the slight embarrassment on the others face. He didn't look the type; at least not from what Brian had seen of him. Who knew? Maybe this Brock was a hopeless romantic at heart. "That's cool. If you're looking for material, you just have to look in the right direction. The bar… Well, that is not the best place to look." He shrugged sheepishly, continuing to paint.

Brock rose a brow, "And where do you suggest I look?" He asked, his voice ending with a slight huff.

The Irishman turned back to his painting and continued. "I can think of a place or two. If you're not busy tomorrow..." He dragged out. "And yes, before you ask, I am asking you out again, since you ignored me earlier." He got out, grin never leaving his face.

Brock found himself smiling slightly, this guy was trying so hard. He must have really wanted to hang out, but the older man couldn't believe that he had just asked him out again, despite already asking him out at the shopping center. "Of course, but only for research right?"

Brian glanced back with a grin, "Yeah. For research."

A yawn escaped Brock's lips, and the clock on the cluttered wall indicated that it was almost four in the morning. "I better get back to bed, then." He continued on, dark eyes glancing back to Brian. "And you should go too." He tried to coax, but the younger man merely shook his head.

"I don't like leaving work unfinished."

His eyes were teary, so without anymore words, he bid Brian goodnight, and retreated back into the guest bedroom. There was something about him, he couldn't quite put it into place, but there was something about Brian that made Brock want more. And albeit, he was a bit reluctant to go out with him, hell, he might as well, they had only just met and he was already staying at his house… But that wasn't intentional. Brock concluded that it was just fate working out for him, and maybe he'd be able to write a romance novel out of all of this yet.

When morning came, he felt groggily when he woke. Sitting up, Brock scratched the back of his head. Looking around, he felt a slight tinge of fear before he realized where he was. That's right; he was at Brian's house… A man he had only met less than forty eight hours ago. Hell, this was only something that _would_ happen in a romance novel. Swinging his feet over the bed, he slowly made himself get up. Grabbing his pants from the floor, he pulled them on. Rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, he made his way out of the room.

As he exited the small hallway, the living room came into view, and he couldn't help the smile that breached his lips when he saw Brian fast asleep on the couch. He was curled up on his side, legs tucked underneath him, paint in spots on his clothes and arms. He must have stayed up late to finish the painting, because it sat against the wall, all finished, and Brock couldn't help but to marvel at its beauty. It was still rather early, so the older man decided to let Brian sleep. He knew he was tired, and after all, today was going to be a busy day. He had plans with Brian, and he also had to get all the stuff he bought last night back into he and Nogla's home.

And thinking of Nogla, that's when Brock thought to check his phone, only to see missed texts and calls from his roommate. "Crap." He muttered before going through the text. Irishmen really knew some pretty words to call people. He shoved his phone back in his pocket. He'd apologize later. Then he'd punch Nogla for the house key incident. Glancing back at Brian, he rose a brow. He then looked around to see the mess in his house once more. His brows furrowed, maybe if he was quiet...

Going towards the kitchen, he glanced behind to make sure his steps didn't wake him. Smiling to himself, he turned back and headed inside to fix the horrible damage. It was only an hour later and the place already looked decent. Of course, anything would look better than the condition Brian had it in. Brewing a fresh pot of coffee, Brock sat down at the small table in the kitchen and waited for the sleeping man on the sofa to wake. And when he did finally wake, his blue eyes fluttered open and the only thing he could mutter was, "Where am I?"

Brock had to laugh at that one. His apartment had been so dirty he couldn't even recognize it? Yikes. "You're home." The older man got out, getting up to fix himself a cup of the fresh coffee.

Brian's head jerked in his direction, "You cleaned?"

"Consider it a thank you for everything you've done for me." Brock replied nonchalantly. "Coffee?" He offered, and Brian nodded as he sat up on the couch stretching his stiff limbs. Falling asleep out in the living room was something of a routine of his, but at least he finished his paintings. "We've got a long day ahead of us," Brock smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

"Should I stay in the car?" Brian asked, peering out of the car window at Nogla's small house.

Brock shook his head as he tried to grab some of the bags in the backseat. He still needed to get all these things inside before they ruined. "I'm going to need help bringing this all in. Nogla won't mind you a bit." He smiled, "Plus I have to shower. That might take a little bit." He added. And with those words, Brian gave a nod and turned the key in his ignition, shutting off the car. After that, he began to help Brock grab the bags of miscellaneous items from the store last night. They headed inside, Brian following after Brock, and as soon as the older man was able to push the door open, Nogla was right there, groggy and disheveled, questioning his roommate.

"Well well well, look who finally decided to fucking show up?" He questioned, eyeing Brock carefully.

Brock rose on of his bags, "Couldn't find the potatoes. But I finally did." His smile dropped when he saw Nogla wasn't amused. He actually noticed Nogla was now looking at the male behind him. He didn't look too happy to see Brian either, especially since he had only just woken up. "He was next to the potatoes." Brock added, a smile still clearly etched on his lips. Seeing Nogla wasn't moving out of the way, he slightly forced his way through. "I couldn't help that I wasn't home Nogla, I had no way on getting inside. I had no key." He set the groceries down on the table. "This guy was kind enough to let me stay at his place so you should thank him. I could of gotten kidnapped or something." He shrugged. "I am sorry for not telling you though, I really am."

Nogla rolled his eyes, "You could have at least checked your phone, gave me a call or something." He said as he shut the front door. Brian only stood there awkwardly, hands shoved in his pockets. "But I'm glad you're home safe."

"Thank you." Brock replied.

"So uh," Nogla trailed off, scratching his head. "Who's your friend?" He looked over to Brian again, and he could slightly make out his face. "Oh! This is your friend from the bar..." He continued, looking back to Brock. "Jesus Brock, it's only like your third day in Ireland!" He thought he knew Brock, but apparently he didn't. It wasn't like him to just run off with people that he had only just met.

"It's not like that," Brock immediately got out, face heating up.

He gave Brian a look up and down, "Mhm." He turned around and sat down in his rocking chair.

Brock looked awkwardly away,. "Well Brian... I'll just go shower quickly. Just wait down here and I promise I'll be quick." Brian gave a slight nod before taking a seat across from Nogla. He really hoped Brock would stay true to his words and hurry in his shower… By the looks of it, his roommate wasn't too happy for him to be here. He brought his hands to his lap, drumming his fingers there, trying to avoid eye contact. This surely couldn't get any awkward, could it?

"So..." Nogla drawled out. "You got a name?"

Brian cleared his throat, "Brian." He replied.

"Mhm." Nogla grunted and rocked, the chair underneath him creaking under his weight. "So _Brian_..." He dragged out the name, making the other feel uncomfortable. "I've known Brock for a very long time and well, I know he's stupid. So... I hope you know he doesn't understand what he's doing most of the time." The man got out, continuing to rock in his chair. He had known Brock since college, and he had to admit, the older man was the type to fall in love, or get attached, per se, too quickly. It had happened more times than Nogla could count.

Brian rose a brow, "What?" He asked confused but stopped short at another sound of the creaking chair. "Have... I done something wrong?" He asked curiously.

Nogla grunted once more, and kept his eyes on the other man. "So, what do you do?"

Brian found himself looking towards the hall, wondering when Brock would return. "Artist." He answered shortly. "What about you?" He inquired, glancing back towards the man sitting across from him. Brock said he wouldn't mind him being here, but he was starting to beg to differ. This man, Nogla, was a bit of an asshole. But, Brian didn't blame him; he was, after all, just looking out for Brock.

"Bartender." Nogla replied, a bit of a lilt in his voice.

"Ah," Brian got out… So that's why Brock wasn't able to get in the house last night. He didn't know what else to say in that moment. In a way, he did want to try to make conversation with Nogla, but then again, he was also afraid to. He didn't know what the other Irishman might say or ask him, and that bothered him. Again, he looked back towards the hallway, praying for Brock to walk out. He made a mental note to talk to him about Nogla later when they were alone. He said nothing more until he saw a familiar face return to them. He smiled at Brock, "Finished?" He asked, standing quick from his sitting position.

Brock nodded, patting down his fresh clothes. "All clean," He smiled.

Nogla stood up, chair squeaking extra loudly in the process, "You're leavin' again!?" He questioned loudly.

The older man nodded once more, "Brian here has offered to show me around a bit, give me some… Writing inspiration." He answered.

"Inspiration, huh?" Nogla rolled his eyes.

He was counting on his roommate to give that type of reaction. It was so typical of him, there was never a dull moment with Daithi. "Can I just have the key?" Brock questioned. Even though Brian was nice enough to let him spend a night in his apartment, he definitely didn't want to do that again… Yet.

Nogla vanished towards the kitchen before returning back after a moment. "Tell me I at least did some kind of a good job when I showed you around." He huffed as he shoved the key into his roommate's hand. At least he'd gotten one made, Brock was thankful enough for that.

Brock realized that Nogla was actually slightly jealous, which was a little amusing he had to admit. "You did a wonderful job Daithi. Best tour guide ever." He explained with a growing smile.

Nogla turned and nudged Brian, "You hear that?" He asked with a smirk. "Best tour guide ever."

Brock shoved the taller man, "Shut up, I'll be home later, okay?"

Nogla smiled, "Have fun, yeah?" He then bid the two men goodbye as they exited the small house, and got back into Brian's car.

"Is he always like that?" Brian asked with a grin as he put the key in the ignition.

"Like what?" Brock retorted.

"He gave me the third degree while you were in the shower."

"I'm sorry." He apologized, looking over to the other man. "He gets jealous easily over about almost everything." Brock added.

Brian nodded, "Wish I could have known that. Would have prepared more cooler things to say."

"So where are we headed to?" The older man changed the subject.

The other pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road. "Wherever the wind takes us." Eventually, since it was still early in the day, and the two had yet to eat, Brian decided on breakfast to start off their little adventure. He took Brock to his favorite cafe, a different one than what Nogla had taken him to, that was just a little ways from his apartment. "Breakfast is on me," He grinned when he pulled onto the side of the road and shut off the car. He turned to look at the older man before he could object, "No buts." He added, smiling cheeky.

"Fine," Brock replied with a roll of his eyes as they exited the car. Getting a table was easy, it was ordering the food that was the hard part. There was so much of it on the menu. "What do you recommend?" Brock asked as he looked over the items one last time.

"The fried potatoes taste nice. Get something with that on the side." Brian told him, his own eyes scanning the menu.

Brock couldn't hide his snort, "Seriously? Potatoes? I swear when I go home back to Utah, I will hit whoever yells at me for being stereotypical. All I have heard from you Irishmen were how great potatoes are."

Brian leaned forward, "So you admit how great they are, right?"

Brock chuckled and rolled his eyes. "No." When the waitress came to take their order, Brock ordered the fried potatoes with a few eggs, while Brian ordered the same, with the addition of some bacon on the side. They talked, cracking jokes and making banter, and Brock never failed to laugh at nearly everything Brian said. He couldn't help to though, the younger man was funny he had to admit, and he was glad to have met him this early in his trip to Dublin. Once breakfast was over, Brock wasn't sure on where the Irishman was going to take him next. It was still morning, the day still new.

Brian was definitely enjoying all the attention that Brock was giving him too. "So Brock, now that we have fed ourselves, how about a walk? Ireland is full of beautiful parks and it's also a great day. So how about it?" He asked, glancing over at the slightly shorter man, giving a small smile. The sunlight shined down on them, creating a glow on Brock's skin. The younger man did have to admit that he looked a bit ethereal to say the least; he couldn't pull his eyes away.

Brock nodded, looking over to Brian as well, "Sure. I need to walk these carbs off anyway." He looked around, "Well that fountain looks nice. Same with that bench." Ireland truly was beautiful, he'd admit that time and time again. And it kind of gave way for the perfect romance setting… He hoped inspiration would strike soon, because as of right now, he could only think of Brian and how perfect his smile was.

Brian glanced over, "You just going to tell me the things you like?" He asked with a growing smirk. "Am I included?" He didn't mean to flirt, it sort of just came out, and that was the way it had always been with him. His charm had never failed to impress people, and he rose his eyebrows just a bit when he noticed a faint blush coming across Brock's cheeks. How many times had he blushed today already? Brian was beginning to lose count. He couldn't believe that he could make him flustered like that, with just a few words. It was amusing, honestly, if he were being truthful.

"Guess you'll have to wait and see." Brock retorted right back as he continued to walk, picking up the pace if only slightly. Damn, he was in trouble.


	9. Chapter 9

Brian placed his hand on his chest and pretended to look taken back as they continued to walk through the park. "Never enjoyed being patient." He grinned and worked to catch up with the other until their paces matched once more. It was quiet again until Brian decided to speak. "So hey, you know how I said we would talk about how you could repay me later? Well, can we talk about that now? I think I know what I want." He'd given it some thought since they'd woken up this morning, and since that conversation he and Brock had last night. It was clear that he knew what he wanted to do.

Brock couldn't manage to look at the other and continued walking forward. "Yeah, what did you have in mind?" He asked, only glancing over slightly. He couldn't deny that he was curious, hell, he still wasn't sure what kind of stuff Brian was into. For all he knew, he could ask him out… Again.

Brian swung his arms back and forth, "I want to sculpt you." It was simple enough, he had to admit.

The other almost tripped over his foot, his walking slowed and he looked over in bewilderment. Did that just come out of Brian's mouth, for real? "Sculpt me?" He repeated, not believing he heard correctly. "Why on earth would you want to sculpt me?" He questioned, eyebrows raising on his forehead. Did the younger man find him attractive?

Brian shrugged, "Why not? You look very… Sculptable. The worst part of it is the wait. But you can play on your phone or something right?" He inquired.

The older man thought about it for a moment. It wouldn't be so bad, would it? Plus, that was more time he got to spend with the Irishman in the process. He was sure Nogla wouldn't be too happy about it though. "I mean…?" He trailed off. "I guess, if that's what you really want." He wasn't sure what the outcome of all of this would be, but it couldn't be too bad… Or at least that's what he had hoped.

"It is." Brian said as they kept walking. Another bench came into view and the two decided to take a seat on it, break for a bit and catch their breath. "So?" Brian inquired. "What do you think? Any inspiration come yet?" He continued to question, looking over at the older man as his dark eyes glanced up at the sky. The sunlight reflected in them, and the artist in Brian thought that it was a rather beautiful sight to see. It would make a good drawing, that was for sure… Well, Brock would make a good drawing too if he were being honest with himself.

Brock chuckled, looking back down. "It doesn't just happen like that."

"Really?" The younger man asked.

"You just have to wait until you get that feel for something." Brock explained before stretching out his limbs. He chuckled slightly, he was so focused on the other man that he never had the chance to think about inspiration. He could always use Brian as inspiration. That was sure something, wasn't it? He thought about it for a moment with a slight smile before shaking his head. He needed something solid, he needed something he was sure about. With this guy, he had no idea what was going on.

"Brock?" Brian repeated, snapping his fingers in front of the man's face, pulling him out of his drifting thoughts. "I asked if I could get your number. We're going to have to schedule you coming over right?" He asked, his phone in his other hand.

Brock nodded quickly, embarrassed that he let himself get lost in his thoughts. Telling him his phone number, he slapped his hands onto his lap. "So, is this where our tour ends or is there another place you plan on taking me?" He asked before looking over. Brian was stretched out on the bench, his head back with his eyes closed. He looked comfortable with the suns ray cascading down onto him. He must have not heard the question because he didn't seem in any rush to answer it.

Brock swallowed heavily, he looked back forward. "I think I got some inspiration." The Irishman was too good looking… Too attractive. But Brock couldn't think about him in that way… At least, not yet he couldn't.

"Hm?" Brian questioned, sitting back up.

Brock rolled his eyes, of course he'd hear him then. "Nothing..." He trailed off, shaking his head with a smile. A few moments of silence passed before either of them said anything, and when they did, their conversation didn't make very much sense. It was mostly small talk, them asking about each other, getting to know each other. Brian was interested in Brock's life back in Utah, asking about his first book and what not. "I've got lots of copies," The older man said, "You could have one."

"You gonna autograph it for me too?" Brian teased.

Brock blushed for the umpteenth time that day, "Sure, if you want." He nodded.

The younger man let out a quick laugh before stretching once more. "You ready to head out? I've got something else to show you before I take you home." It was nearing mid afternoon, and Brian definitely didn't want to keep Brock out all day again. After all, if the man was going to get any writing done, he needed time to sit down and actually write. Brock nodded in return, curious as to where Brian was going to take him. Brian proceeded on taking him to a castle that was very popular in Dublin. It was something he thought Brock would certainly enjoy. "Your roommate didn't bring you here on your tour?" He inquired as they walked through the giant building.

The older man shook his head, "We sort of avoided the big spots..." He answered. "But this is… Amazing," He said for a lack of a better word. He couldn't believe Brian was doing all this for him just so he could get some inspiration to write something worth reading. Again, this man was full of surprises, and he left Brock wondering what was next.

There the Irishman told him a very interesting history behind the building that Brock enjoyed a lot. The day seemed to drag on and on, but it was slowly coming to a close. Before he knew it, they were already on their way back to Nogla's place for Brian to drop him off. It was a bittersweet feeling, both of them would equally admit. It was nearing evening time, but Nogla would still be home. It wasn't late enough for him to go into work yet. "Well," Brian began as he shut off his car. "I guess this is goodbye for now." He said with a small smile.

Brock grinned right back, "If you wait here I'll get the book for you,"

"Oh, right!"

Brock was quick to enter the house, not wanting the Irishman to wait outside for too long. Rushing passed Nogla, he didn't get the chance to hear what the other said. Entering his room, he headed straight to his closet. Kneeling down, he dug through one of the boxes inside. Thanks to his editor, he received a few copies after his book got published. He didn't really know many people who would enjoy this kind of story.

Grabbing one of the books, he walked over to a desk against the wall to grab a pen. Opening, he looked at the blank white page. He didn't know what to sign. Should he just put _To Brian_ or something actually inspirational? Why was this always difficult? Not wanting to take too long, Brock decided to just sign it; so with that, he scribbled his messy signature down on the cover page before heading back outside to where Brian was still waiting for him.

"Here you go," He smiled as he handed it through the window.

"Thank you," Brian replied genuinely. "I'll start on it tonight while I'm at work."

Brock rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "It's really not everyone's kind of book… If you don't like it, you don't have to force yourself to read it." He told him, brushing it off. Sometimes he wished he had more confidence. Secretly, he wanted Brian to read it; he wanted to know what he genuinely thought of it. And maybe if he read it… He might pick up on the fact that Brock was a true hopeless romantic at heart.

"Don't be so modest, Brock." Brian gave a grin. "I'm sure it's great."

"I'll be expecting your call, then." The older man bid him a final farewell before waving a goodbye and heading into the small house. He couldn't stop the smile on his face if he tried, as he recollected the events of his day. He liked Brian… That was apparent. And he was so enticed with him, so enticed with his thoughts of the Irishman, he didn't notice Nogla, who was now sitting on the couch flipping through the channels on the TV.

"So..." He got out, pulling Brock from his thoughts. "How was it?" He inquired, wondering why his roommate was flushed and grinning like an idiot. "You like him, obviously." He pointed out, turning the volume down on the television if only for a moment. "But his tour better not have been better than mine." He chuckled, jokingly.

Brock shook his head, in denial of his feelings. "It's too early to tell if I like him yet..." He managed to answer. Hell, if Daithi knew the truth of how strongly he felt for Brian already, he'd never hear the end of it. The teasing would never stop. "But it was nice..." Brock replied, for a lack of a better word. Actually, it was more than nice, but he didn't want Nogla to know how enthusiastic he was about it all. They had had a great time today, and got along great as well. There was definitely chemistry there, no doubt.

"Did you have sex?" Nogla asked casually.

Brock quickly glared at his roommate, shock written on his face, "What are you talking about? Of course not!"

The younger man gave a quick shrug and a chuckle, "Taking things slow I see? Hm, college Brock wouldn't have." He teased, causing Brock to laugh and flush as well. He was right though. Brock had gone through his fair share of partners while they were still in school, not that Nogla minded. "Doesn't matter anyway," Nogla waived off. "I'm glad you had a good time, and I'm glad you have someone else to keep you occupied while you're here in Ireland. I don't want you to be up my ass all the time." He continued to say.

Brock merely ignored him and came and sat on the couch with him, "Any plans tonight?"

Daithi shrugged, his attention still on the TV. "Might go out with Berenice later." When he received a blank stare from his roommate, he decided to elaborate. "Berenice, my girlfriend." He added. They'd been dating for awhile, but it seemed as though he forgot to mention it when Brock moved it with him. It didn't matter though, because neither of them really had any dating policies. "And then I have to work."

Brock frowned, "I'm gonna be alone again?"

"Invite your new boyfriend over," Nogla smirked.

"Shut up."


	10. Chapter 10

Brock was tapping his pen on the dining room table, for once, he decided to see if writing on paper would help his writer's block. Staring ahead, he continued tapping. Whatever he was doing, it seemed to be to no avail, and he was becoming frustrated with each second that passed and he wasn't writing; just lost in his thoughts. Nogla was next to him, eating some sort of soup. He went from staring at his food to looking over at the pen. He looked up to see his friend was completely zoning out. He reached out and grabbed the pen before setting it down in relief. "What are you thinking about?"

Brock blinked and looked down at his blank paper. He then sighed, "I guess everything... I'm too busy thinking about stupid things that I can't concentrate on writing." He confessed with a groan. He didn't want to admit it, but it was the absolute truth in things.

The other nodded, "Okay… But… What are you thinking?" He asked again.

Brock sat back, "It's been four days Nogla. Four." Seeing his friends questionable look, he rested his head on the table. "Brian was suppose to call me but I have yet to hear from him." And these four days had been unbearably long; and because of his preoccupied thoughts, Brock had yet to get any writing done. They ended on good terms, didn't they? When they bid farewell just four days ago? He remembered Brian's white smile so easily when drove away. What in the world was going on?

Nogla took a bite of his soup, "Maybe you did something wrong." He suggested casually.

He sat there for a moment before snapping his head up. "My book. That has to be it!" Sitting up, he shook his head. "I'm an idiot. I gave him my book and now he is disgusted with me." He was used to over thinking things, but this actually made perfect sense. Brian read the book, and now he was avoiding Brock; that had to be it.

Nogla nodded, "Yep. Has to be it."

Brock glared at him, "You're an asshole."

"Hey," Nogla interjected. "I'm just trying to help! Besides… Four days isn't that long, maybe he's just busy?" He continued to add suggestions. "Maybe he really likes you, and doesn't want to seem so eager to see you again." He shrugged, spooning another bite of soup into his mouth, slurping it down. "Maybe… He's dead."

"Daithi!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" He laughed. "But seriously, you shouldn't be so worried Brock. I'm sure everything's fine. Just try to get some writing done, that's what you're here for, right?" He was just trying to be a good friend and ease the older man's nerves, and he liked to think he was doing a pretty good job at it.

Brock nodded, "You're right! I came here to write, not to chase cute Irishmen." He got out, beginning to tap his pen on the table again.

Nogla shook his head, grimacing at his roommate, "God… You're too much for me sometimes."

Brock laughed and decided maybe he should just write down some characters to start off. Alright. He began scribbling until he had a full description. He slid his notebook to Nogla, "Tell me if you think this guy would be attractive." He said, hoping the Irishman would be of some help.

Nogla glanced up, "Seriously?" Seeing his friend eagerly nodding, he sighed heavily through his nose. Looking down at the messy handwriting, it took him a moment to be able to understand what it said. "Tall, alright. You want to be able to look up at the guy. Some stubble? Okay. Blue eyes… Brock, I feel uncomfortable." He got out as he continued to glance over the list.

Brock was listening for a moment before taking his notebook back. He stared at the description before sighing. Hair swept to the side, a thick Irish accent. It was Brian… The character he was describing was Brian. But of course it would be; he hard charm and good looks, wit for days, and the guy hadn't even called yet. Grabbing the paper, he tore it out and crumpled it up before throwing it to the side. "Something is seriously wrong with me man." He groaned. "Love like this isn't real, it's just in books! Love at first sight isn't real." He tried to persuade himself.

Nogla finished his soup and sat back, rubbing his now full stomach. "Why don't you just use your experiences and use it in a book. That's why you came here, right?" He suggested with a shrug.

Brock grabbed the paper he just crumpled and opened it up once more. He continued staring down at it, an odd feeling in his gut. It wasn't right. Plus, he didn't even know how much he really liked Brian, if at all! Or if Brian liked him! "I came to write a book, not to fall in love." He said once again, still trying to persuade himself rather than Nogla.

"Why not both?" Nogla questioned. "What's that saying? Have your cake and eat it too? Isn't that how it goes?" He continued to try and help Brock, but the older man was just staring at him, ridiculing his every word. "You can do both, Brock, I believe in you." He encouraged. After all, he didn't know just how long he was staying in Ireland; enough time to write a book, but how much time was that? "You can stay here as long as you need." Daithi added, hoping it would help. He hated seeing his friend distressed as much as he liked picking on him.

Brock sighed and hung his head, fingers still playing with the wrinkled paper… "What if he doesn't like me back? What if he just wants to be friends?" He inquired, glancing up and Nogla with his dark eyes. Surely… That had to have been why Brian hadn't called yet.

The younger man grinned and chuckled, "So now we find out what the real problem is… Brock's afraid of getting rejected."

"I like him." Brock admitted. "And I think I like him a lot."

Nogla waived it off, "You've got too much on your mind and you're over thinking it like you always do. You need to relax." He advised. "Let's go out for some drinks." He joked, laughing slightly.

"Like hell I will," He rolled his eyes. "Alcohol got me into this mess."

"You know what, we really should." Nogla then began to explain. "Drinking has always made you less stressed, I think this would be good for you." He continued to speak.

"I don't want to." Brock huffed, attempting to write on his paper again to no prevail. "You're a bad influence."

Nogla nudged his arm, "Come on man, I promise I won't leave you again." He tried to persuade. "I'll make sure you don't over drink and if you say anything stupid to another cute guy, I'll pull you away." He coaxed his roommate into going to the bar with him, hoping it would work. He knew Brock needed to get this Brian guy off his mind. He seemed like a decent enough guy, so Nogla was curious as to why he hadn't called back yet either.

Brock looked over to see the Irishman's pleading face and sighed. "I hate you." Standing up, he grabbed his supplies. "Give me fifteen to get ready. I swear to god if you break your promise, I will end you." He threatened before twirling around and heading in the direction of his bedroom. Once he got there, he took a glance at his cell phone. Was he overreacting? This guy… He didn't know if he would feel anger or joy when he finally called.

As promised, about fifteen minutes later, Brock came out of his room once more, ready to go to the bar. He and Daithi decided to walk since the pub was so close to their house. Maybe getting drunk wouldn't be so bad… At least that's what Brock hoped. Maybe this time he could drink responsibly, because every time he did get drunk, it never ended up well. "Two beers, please." Nogla said once they got to the bar and took their seats on the stools. It was relatively quiet there tonight, which was a good thing.

"This is kind of relaxing," Brock got out.

"See?" Nogla offered. "I told you it'd be good for you. And maybe you'll get some ideas so you can write later." He added.

"Hopefully," Brock replied, sipping on his beer once the bartender brought it to him.

It was only fifteen or twenty minutes in of their little rendezvous that Brock was feeling miserable, and for once, it wasn't from being drunk. He had only drunk one beer anyway, but still… One was usually enough to get him a bit intoxicated. He was slightly tipsy and that was about it, but now he had his head pressed against the bar, lost in his thoughts. He was sure people felt slightly bad for him, one woman even attempted to get him to buy her a drink but she couldn't even get any flirting out. He was awful.

Nogla was part of the reason why he felt so bad. After he got a bit under the influence, he may have gotten a little emotional and he told Nogla how he felt, like earlier, he was just ranting and raving about everything he was feeling. The Irishman nodded a few times, mentioned something about using the bathroom and hadn't been back since then. He had ditched Brock once more, left him all alone at the bar with his beer and sorrows. Probably couldn't handle some man tears, he didn't blame him. Still, he never came here for this… This was definitely not in his plans.

Lifting his head, he squinted across the bar at the mirror against the wall. He looked absolutely miserable. All of this because of some guy he recently just met. Sitting up more straight, he sniffed and took a sip of his beer. Maybe he should just forget about this Brian guy. He was a very messy guy anyway, it would be for the best. And Nogla would stop getting all jealous about it. Sure, he could forget… But Brock knew there was no way he'd be able to just make his feelings go away, or stop them for that matter. He was already in too deep with Brian, and no matter how many times he told himself he could just forget, he knew he wouldn't be able to.

Sitting there drinking his glass of alcohol, he felt a small vibration coming from his pocket. It was rather late, so he wondered who'd be calling him at this time of night. Looking down, he set down his glass and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Raising his brow at the unknown number, he put the device to his ear. "Hello?" He inquired, slurring if only slightly.

"Hey, is this Brock?" The voice sounded unfamiliar, at least in this state he was in.

"Who's asking?" He slurred even more, slightly.

"It's Brian." The voice replied happily, leaving Brock in shock.


	11. Chapter 11

"Brian?" Brock repeated and looked around, making sure the guy wasn't around him or anything. He would hate to see him like this, drinking away his sorrows for something he didn't realize was his own fault. "Hey." He replied, a little more nonchalant. After all, he didn't want to come off as desperate or anything like that even though he'd been waiting relentlessly for four days for this call. He had to keep calm about it. He didn't want to scare Brian away so early.

"Sorry I'm calling so late, I didn't realize what time it was until just now. It's dark outside." Brian let out a laugh, Brock couldn't help but smile from the sound, he had truly missed it. He hated that he made him feel this way. "Anyway, I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow. I can do that statue thing." He continued as Brock listened on.

Brock stared ahead, "Tomorrow..." He repeated out loud, dragging the word out making it sound funny, causing to make himself laugh. "I don't know what I could be doing tomorrow, I need to do laundry and cook even though I kind of can't." He pressed his lips together, and continued rambling on and on, the alcohol making him talk more than anything. "I do want to see you again." He added on before letting another giggle out. Taking another drink of his beverage, he rocked back. "I don't know." He finally said, being satisfied with his answer.

"You don't know?" Brian repeated confused before sighing. "Where's Nogla?"

"Nogla? Why do you want to speak to that asshole?" Brock asked, his brows furrowing. "I waited for so long for you to call me and you want to talk to that guy?" He asked accusingly.

Brian was sighing, "You're drunk Brock, I want to talk to Nogla if he isn't in the same state as you." He explained slowly, not wanting to upset the other anymore than he already had.

"Well your luck's run out because that guy ditched me once again." He said with a smile. "So now you have to talk to me. How do you feel now?" He retorted, a bit of a lilt in his voice as he taunted the younger man.

Brian sighed for what seemed about the umpteenth time since he'd contacted the other man, "Brock, where are you?" After all, he already knew Brock as the type to not drink... So him being drunk was surprising enough. He wasn't going to lie to himself, he was worried. He wanted to make sure he didn't over drink, or cause any trouble. He was still relatively new to Ireland, there was a lot that could happen to him.

"That's for me to know and you to find out." The older man got out, taking another drink of his beer. He was happy that Brian had finally called, but pissed at the fact that he took so long to do it.

"Don't make this difficult."

"You already made it difficult." He shot right back.

"Brock, where are you?" The Irishman questioned again, voice more demanding this time. "Please, tell me?"

Brock looked around, "Don't know where I am to tell the truth. The building is made of bricks… There's this band singing with a hot singer." He looked around, "I think it's called the something head... Don't know." He rested his head back down, "If you come here, I'm punching you." He threatened weakly, not pushing too hard with it. In a way, he did want to see him, but he didn't. God, he wondered if the Irishman knew just how much he liked him already.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," Brian answered as he grabbed his keys and got into his car. "I'll be there in a few minutes, okay? Don't move." He hung up, not giving Brock a chance to rebuttal. He couldn't believe that Nogla had taken him out to the bar and left him there once more. Hopefully when he got to the bar, the older man wouldn't put up too much of a fight when he tried to take him home. Brian was keeping his fingers crossed. After all, he didn't seem the type to do so, but still, alcohol made people get out of character.

Brock sighed a little angrily as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He looked around trying to find Nogla, but just to his luck, the younger man was nowhere to be found. Knowing him, he'd probably left and went home. Even though it was his idea to go out and drink, of course it was so like him to leave his roommate alone at the bar. Typical Nogla; honestly, Brock wasn't surprised anymore. So, while he waited for Brian, he chugged down what was left of his second beer and tried not to throw up.

It was roughly twenty minutes later that Brock heard a soft cough. Turning his head, he met those familiar blue eyes. He felt a smirk rise to his lips, "Is that a phone in your back pocket, 'cause that ass is calling me."

Brian wasn't looking too amused, "Come on, I think you've had enough to drink. No more pick up lines, okay?" His voice was soft and trying to be reassuring. Despite the fact that he was angry, he had a soft spot for the older man.

Brock stood, pushing the bar stool backwards with an awful scratching sound. He grabbed Brian's arm and leaned most of his weight onto him. "I like my men like I like my cake; moist." As soon a the last word came out, his lips pressed together before losing it to a fit of giggles. "I'm hilarious aren't I?" He inquired with a grin.

The Irishman rolled his eyes and had to work to keep the other one up. Taking careful steps, he managed not to fall over as he made his way out of the bar. The air was chilly, wind casually blowing against them. Street lights above them flickered every now and then as they continued taking more steps. "You really need to stop coming to this place. You just need to stop drinking. Why did you drink this time? To get more inspiration?" He asked, looking over at the smiling older man.

Brock shook his head and glanced up, "You didn't call me." He let out a laugh, "So I thought this would make me feel better." He then moved away from Brian and threw his arms into the air. "And let me just tell you, I feel great! Who cares that Nogla ditched me? Who cares that I can only think about you when I write. Who cares that I drink?" He then dropped his arms and sighed. "Because I know I don't."

Brian stood there and watched the different emotions move across the others face and sighed, remembering what he said. "Let's get you home alright? It's late and I know you are going to be tired. It doesn't take long before a drunk person falls asleep."

Brock frowned, "I'm not even drunk. Just tipsy." He corrected and looked around to find Brian's car. "Don't ask me to state the alphabet backwards because I cant even do that sober." He ordered, heading towards the vehicle.

Brian watched his back and followed him at a slower pace, "Whatever you say you drunken fool." He said, mumbling his words so the other wouldn't hear it.

The car ride back to Brian's home was silent and awkward. The Irishman wanted to talk to Brock but he honestly didn't know what to say. It was odd, seeing him in that drunken state, even though he was drunk when they first met, he knew this was not the Brock he had come to know. "My head hurts." The older man interrupted the silence as he looked over at Brian as he drove.

"I should have some aspirin back at my place." He replied, not talking his eyes off the road. "You can take some and go to sleep. We can talk more seriously when you sober up." The younger man added, hearing Brock scoff in reply.

"I only had two beers Brian!" He got out, rolling his eyes. "And I don't know why you're mad at me, it was Nogla's idea to go out drinking!" He continued, voice loud, slurring obnoxiously.

"I'm mad because you're being a baby about this!" Brian replied. "I'm sorry I didn't call! I wanted to give you space! We were up each others asses for three days, I thought you might want a break." He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he continued to drive. He hadn't wanted to yell, but he couldn't help it. Maybe coming to get Brock had been a bad idea after all? The man was surely a force to be reckoned with while he was intoxicated.

Brock had his arms crossed, "I'm mad because you're being a baby about this." He mocked, his face turned to Brian so he could see the ugly expression he was giving him. "Well you're being stupid. Why in the heck would I want a break? I enjoy spending time with you. You actually make funny jokes compared to Nogla." He began to explain, sitting back in the seat. "I get it, I'm kind of persistent and annoying but can you blame me? You're the first person I've met that actually talked to me so I figured I'd get to know you." His eyes lowered to his lap, "I really suck."

Brian let out a groan, "You don't suck." He explained before slowing the car down to a stop. Putting it in park, he turned to his passenger. "Think more higher of yourself okay?" He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before smiling slightly. "You're a good writer, I'm a pretty slow reader so I'm not even half way done but the part I did read was really good."

Brock looked up at him, "You really think so?"

He nodded, "I know so. So, how about we just go to my place, relax and go to sleep and talk more about it. You giggle too much now to talk about it. Does that sound okay?"

Brock turned and looked back out of the window, "I guess." He looked out at the empty streets. "Sorry for making you angry."

Brian started up his car and continued driving, "I'm sorry for yelling." He apologized right after, feeling a bit better.

A few moments later, Brian was pulling into the driveway of his home. He turned the car off, and exited it, going over to the passenger side to help a still drunk Brock. He seemed to have sobered up if only slightly, but still, he wanted to make sure he wasn't going to fall over any time soon. He put a long arm around his waist to help steady him as they walked to the front door. Brock didn't want to admit it, but Brian's arm felt perfect there. "So I guess I'll be in the guest room again?" The older man inquired as they made their way inside.

Brian nodded, "You remember where it is, don't you?" He asked.

"Yeah." Brock replied.

"You go ahead and go lie down and I'll get your aspirin." The Irishman said before watching Brock stumble towards the bedroom. Brian merely shook his head and let out a chuckle before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water, and then to the bathroom to get a few pills for his house guest.


	12. Chapter 12

Brock stopped at the entrance of the bedroom and leaned against the door frame. Staring ahead, he slowly backed up. He wasn't ready to go to bed yet, he never even got the chance to explore Brian's house yet. Backing away from the room, he rested his weight on the wall as he walked down the hallway. Looking around, he noticed more of Brian's artwork. Smiling slightly, he continued walking until he reached the end. Opening the door in front of him, he looked around. If he was sober, he would have been horrified. The room was terribly messy, he stepped inside. He knew this had to be the other's room.

His bed was unkempt, there were dirty clothes strewn about, a desk was shoved in the corner with works in progress, and in the middle of the room? There was an easel with a man on it, a man that looked like Brock. He couldn't help but to let his eyes wander, and he stepped deeper into the room. Everything about it was centric to Brian, and Brock thought it was an accurate depiction of his character. As he got to the middle of the room, he noticed his book on Brian's nightstand, lying open, pages all dogeared. So he really had been reading it? Brock was shocked if he were being honest with himself.

"Did you get lost?" Brian's Irish lilt brought him out of his thoughts, and he jumped if only slightly.

"Um," He could feel his face burning as he turned around to look at the younger man. "No… I'm just nosy I guess." He added with a small smile, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. He noticed the glass of water and aspirin in Brian's hand, and he was thankful for it in that moment. "The aspirin." He pointed his finger to it before taking a step forward to grab it. "It's much appreciated, thank you." Nodding to himself, he brushed passed Brian to head back to the guest room. It was definitely embarrassing getting caught. He paused at the door and looked at the confused man. "Um, goodnight?" He inquired.

"Goodnight." Brian nodded.

Turning into the room, Brock quickly shut the door. Moving over to his bed, he sat down and stared at the water and pills. Taking a big chug of the water, he swallowed down the pills with ease. Before laying down in the bed, he sent Nogla a quick text letting him know that he was with Brian, and that he was okay. After that? Brock found himself staring at the ceiling unable to fall asleep. He'd made an ass of himself, he'd yelled at Brian, and not only that, but he'd embarrassed himself too. He figured any chances that he'd had with the younger man were long gone. An hour passed, then two, and it was unbearably late. He couldn't sleep at all. And it didn't help that he knew Brian was awake. He could hear soft music coming from the living room, and he wondered if the Irishman was painting again, just like the first time he had stayed here.

Like always, curiosity got the best of him, and he found himself venturing out into the hallway. The air smelled of coffee and dried paint, and when he saw Brian relaxed on the couch and watching TV, he couldn't help but to smile. He had paint disheveled in his hair, spots on his face and clothes. He must have had just finished. Brock watched as he brought a coffee mug to his lips and sipped gingerly. "Don't you ever sleep?" The older man asked as he fully walked into the living room.

Brian laughed and sat his mug down on the coffee table beside him. "Don't you?" He countered.

Brock shook his head, "Not when I know I've made an ass of myself."

"You were drunk… Hell, you might even still be drunk." He replied with another chuckle.

Brock took a seat next to him and looked over his painting that he had finished, it wasn't the one that was in his room. This time, it was scenery. "I think thinking about my life was enough to sober me up." He sat back and glanced up at the ceiling. He didn't really know what to say, now he just felt awkward about everything. He'd embarrassed himself to no end, and it really was safe to say that he wouldn't be drinking for awhile now.

Brian must have noticed his pause because he turned with a smile. "Oh, by the way. I never expected you to be an erotica romance writer." He said, giving the older man a small elbow to the side. Which was true in itself. He had never expected Brock to have such a way with words and being able to explain a love scene so well. It was a little ironic to say the least, considering how awkward Brock was about everything… Brian wondered if he wrote from experience.

However, Brock's troubling thoughts quickly vanished, he became embarrassed once more. That was not what he wanted to talk about with the other. Not this topic. "Yeah?" He asked shyly. "Did I at least do a good job?"

"Well it's better than 50 Shades of Grey," He countered with a mischievous glint in his eyes, causing Brock to duck his head in embarrassment. "Honestly though, it's great..." He trailed off. "I just never expected that kind of thing from you." He continued. Albeit he'd only known Brock for a few weeks, he was the shy type, and he definitely got that vibe from him.

"It's always the quiet ones," He joked, stifling a yawn.

"Your new book is going to be the same, yeah?" The Irishman asked.

"Not unless I get that inspiration." He explained before his cheeks grew hot. "To write the book, not the sex scenes!" He corrected, only embarrassing himself more. God, he was always the awkward type. He should really think before opening his mouth. This was a wonderful example of what he meant.

Brian only laughing, thinking it was beyond hilarious. "Well, if the writing thing doesn't work out, you could always be a comedian. I'd pay to see it." He said, laughing more. Brock's red face wasn't making it any better. He slapped his hand onto his shoulder and smiled. "It's just a little sex, everyone does it." He set his easel down before standing up. "Well, I think I'm going to head to bed. Feel free to think about your inspiration, I'll be in my room." He said, bidding the older man a goodnight before walking down the hall.

Brock remained on the couch, watching the Irishman leave to his bedroom. Sitting there, he sighed softly to himself. He had to tell Brian how he felt, that had to make him feel better. Maybe just getting it off his chest would be enough to make him stop going this crazy. Sure the other could and probably would reject his feelings, at least he would know how the his feelings were. But just sitting here and thinking about it, he was driving himself insane. After this sculpture thing, he would definitely confess to him.

Sitting there for a bit longer, he got up and headed back to the guest room. He should at least get some rest so he could do this art thing with him when the morning finally came. Brock got into the bed and found that he still couldn't sleep, which was odd for him. He usually never had sleeping issues like this, and he'd been fine the first time he'd stayed at Brian's house. Maybe it was his nerves, but he didn't know. However, he didn't go to sleep until the sun came up. When he did finally wake up, hours later, it was to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and clay. Of course Brian would be up and at it already, he came off as a morning person. But Brock sat up, stretched and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before getting out of bed. Scratching the back of his head, he headed into the living room to see that Brian really was at it. "How do you possibly manage?" He asked through a yawn.

Brian glanced up and smiled at the tired man in front of him, "Good morning to you too." He looked back down at his clay, "It takes a bit to get all this stuff ready." He explained, slapping his hand down on the gray substance.

Brock nodded slowly, "Hey, if it's not too much of a bother, can I take a shower before I do this?" He asked. "I feel disgusting." Usually after getting drunk, he felt this way. The liquor and beer smell was still on him, and if he was going to be close with Brian, he'd really rather not smell of alcohol.

The other nodded, his attention still below him. "Sure, take as long as you need. Do you need to borrow some shorts or anything?" He asked. "I'm sure I have something you can wear." He added.

Brock nodded, "I appreciate it."

"Just look in my dresser, I'm sure I have something somewhere. But just borrow shorts. I need you shirtless for this thing." He ordered. Brock gave him an odd look, but the younger man never pulled his eyes away from the clay he was working on. Shirtless? Now he had to have been just fucking with him, right? However, Brock decided not to think about it and headed to the tiny bathroom to shower and clear his thoughts. Lowkey, he was a little excited, but he was nervous too. He wondered just what tricks Brian had pulled up his sleeves, and he was curious like no other. But the shower helped him clear his mind, and once he was finished, he wrapped a towel around his lower half, and headed into Brian's messy bedroom to search for some shorts.

His dark eyes searched for the dresser before he spotted it in the corner of the room. Making sure his towel was secure, he walked over and began looking for something that would fit him. Brian was much more slim that Brock, so he hoped he'd find something decent. After rummaging around for a bit, he finally found a pair that were decent enough to put on. They were black, and thin fabric, and when Brock put them on, he realized how tight they were. This was ridiculous, and honestly, something that really would only happen in a fucking romance novel. But nonetheless, it was all Brian had, and because he was so much bigger than the Irishman, this pair would be his best bet.

Shyly, after drying off his torso, he headed back into the living room. "I uh… I think I'm ready now." Brock got out, catching Brian's attention. The younger man looked up from the clay he was working his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Brock was so beautiful, and even more toned than he thought. This little sculpture, or whatever he was doing, was going to take a lot of time to perfect the kind of immaculate detail that was Brock. He let out a low whistle, and he swore that Brock's cheeks got even darker. Brian found it cute that he thought he was embarrassed. He decided not to comment on his appearance, or the tightness of his shorts, or that might worsen things. "Where do you want me?" Brock inquired.

"The couch is fine." Brian replied, gesturing to the piece of furniture in front of him. "I'm not done working the clay yet so it'll be a few more minutes." He added, going back to his ministrations. It had to be just right for sculpting. And suddenly, with Brock sitting in front of him, dark eyes on him working the clay, he grew impeccably nervous. It had been such a long time since he sculpted, and he hoped and prayed that he would be able to do Brock's body justice.


	13. Chapter 13

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Brock laughed as he watched Brian continue to sculpt him. He'd been sitting here for quite a while, and so far, it looked as though he was sculpting a lump of clay rather than a person. But he didn't mind if he were being honest with himself. It was the time with Brian that he was enjoying… The fact that they got to sit here and talk to each other, laugh, and get to know one another. "My butt is falling asleep." The older man continued to speak.

"Patience Brocky," Brian got out, "This kind of stuff takes time."

"Yeah, but how much time?" Brock inquired.

"We can take a break if you like." The Irishman suggested.

Brock nodded, "A break is good." He answered, and Brian obliged to him, wiping his clay covered hands on a nearby towel. He was a bit rusty when it came to sculpting, but he was determined to do this one of Brock. He was too beautiful, too immaculate to let the moment pass by. He was crazy if he did. "If I'm not mistaken, I'd say you need a bit more work." Brock said, interrupting the silence.

Brian chuckled, "I told you it's been a while since I've done this." He answered, letting the older man know the truth. "You hungry?" He asked, knowing they hadn't eaten anything all day yet. Brock nodded as he stood to stretch. "Let me clean this clay off my hands and I'll cook us something." The Irishman continued as he sauntered over to the sink to do some scrubbing. Internally, he hoped Brock wouldn't be too judgmental of his cooking skills either; he was rusty when it came to that as well. A few moments later, the house smelled of fried food and clay, and Brock laughed as he watched Brian dance in front of the stove, humming some upbeat song.

"Do you dance too?" He inquired with a wide smile.

"I didn't tell you?" Brian turned to him, "I'm a stripper on the weekends." He joked.

"Shut up," Brock rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his lips. What in the fuck was he doing? It was completely unreal to go through a situation like this… Completely unreal to fall for someone in so little time. Or was it? He was so sure that he was just over thinking things like always, but still, he knew he needed answers. He needed to know why the Irishman dancing in front of him gave him butterflies like never before. He needed to know if Brian had any of the same feelings towards him. This was ridiculous.

"Don't lie, you know you'd pay money to see this." Brian replied in an even more playful tone of voice.

Brock rolled his eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, "You are so full of yourself..."

Once they finished eating, it was time to get back to sculpting. Brock took his place on the couch where he was before, and Brian took his place in front of him, behind his mound of clay. They had no idea it would be an all day project, but, if they were being honest with themselves, neither of them minded at all. But they kept up the conversation, the flirting, the banter… And finally, Brian was getting somewhere with the lump of clay. Brock couldn't believe it, but it was actually starting to look like him. "Now, it's not perfect..." Brian got out as he kept at it, working his fingers with finesse. Brock couldn't believe how good he was with his hands; he tried his best not to let his mind wander.

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you." The older man said with a shrug. "You've got better skills than I thought."

Brian laughed, "Okay, this next part is going to be really weird… But it's all part of the process, I swear." He got out, wiping his hands once more as Brock watched him with an eyebrow raised. What in the world was he talking about? And he grew even more confused as Brian approached him. "I um… Is it okay if I feel your torso?" He asked, a blush rising to his cheeks. "It's better… Helps with the sculpting… I'm not trying to cop a feel, I promise." He laughed awkwardly, causing Brock to let out a chuckle of his own.

But he nodded, "Yeah sure… Do what you gotta do." He looked up as the younger man hovered over him, and their eyes made contact. It was intense, intimate, and when Brock felt Brian's rough fingers on his bare skin, he had to look away. It was too much; he felt like there were holes being burned there where he touched. His digits leaving their imprint as they dug into his skin, pressing with the gentlest of touches. "Do you do this with everyone?" Brock inquired jokingly as he turned his head back to look at Brian, their faces now literal inches apart, and he could feel his hot breath as he breathed slowly.

"No." A pause, a moment of silence before he leaned in to kiss Brock, their lips brushing together with fever. And there were bells, whistles, sirens going off in the older man's head as he let himself become completely undone under the Irishman's touch. He had definitely not been expecting a kiss, but oh god it was better than anything he could have ever imagined. His stomach was churning, his hands gripping skin wherever they could reach... Brian was an excellent kisser, and Brock found himself struggling for air because he didn't want to pull away. But when they did finally separate? He was speechless, embarrassed, and confused. It had all gone by too fast, and now? Brian was looking at him with the most intense of gazes. "How's that for inspiration?" His voice was low, his lips pulled up in a smile, and Brock was flustered.

"You kissed me." He was shocked.

"I did." Brian nodded, still closer than ever. And suddenly, Brock was scrambling for his things and the door. This was too soon... This was not what he had come to Ireland for. And people just didn't fall in love like this! It was the kind of love that did only happen in movies and novels. Hell, if he had to guess, he would say that Brian probably didn't even love him. Sure, the feelings were strong, but it couldn't have been love, could it? He was so unsure and so confused and he knew that if he stayed here, looking at the younger man, he'd do something stupid. He pulled his dirty shirt over his head, grabbed his old clothes, his phone and his wallet, all while the Irishman watched with so much confusion. "Brock?" He stood, still watching. "Did I do something?"

"I just..." He hesitated. "I need to go."

"But the sculpture?" Brian inquired.

Brock waived it off, "We can finish it later, I'm sorry... I have to go." And just like that, he was out the door. Did he even know where he was going? He didn't know. All he did know was that he needed to get as far away from Brian's house as he possibly could. And he knew he needed to find Nogla and talk to the other Irishman. Brock prayed that he was home. It was a crises, and he damn sure wasn't expecting Brian to kiss him... Hell, if anything, he thought he was going to be the one to make the first move on the younger man. Oh how he was wrong though.

Meanwhile, Brian was still so confused as he attempted to clean up the clay mess. Brock had pretty much just confessed to him the previous night, so what was the problem? He had feelings for him, didn't he? Surely, they had only known each other for a little over a week, but still, a connection like this didn't just happen. Brian liked to believe that he met certain people for a reason, and he was sure that Brock had a significant purpose in his life. Had he pushed it too far though? Should he have waited for the kiss? Now he was questioning everything. "Fuck!" He cursed to himself, throwing down a miscellaneous ball of clay. Of course, count on him to mess up something so easy. What if Brock never got back to him? What if he didn't want anything to do with him anymore? He knew he needed to fix this, and fast.

On the streets of Dublin, Brock was still wandering, trying to find his house. Even after all the time he had been here, he still didn't remember where anything was, or had really ever cared to remember anything. At the time, he didn't think it was important. However, he knew that Brian's house was relatively close to the one he shared with Nogla, so he did his best, and tried to locate some things that were familiar. And he wasn't sure how he did it, but after a while of wandering, he finally spotted home. Luckily this time, he had his key on him so he wouldn't be locked out. "Nogla!" His voice was loud as he entered.

"Ow, fuck, I'm right here!" The Irishman answered from the couch right in front of Brock. He was watching television once more, and he turned to look at the older man, raising a brow at seeing his clothes and himself covered in clay. "Have fun last night?" It was a smirk and Brock rolled his eyes as he sat down on the couch beside his roommate. "I didn't mean to ditch you, but it looks like everything worked out." He winked.

But Brock couldn't hold it in anymore, "Brian kissed me!" He got out.

Nogla's reply was sarcastic, "What? No way..." He drawled out dramatically before scoffing. "The Brock I know would have done more than that already."

"Daithi, this is serious!"

"I thought you liked the guy?" The younger man was almost as confused as both Brock and Brian. "I don't see a problem here... Brock, you need to open your eyes. He likes you!" He studied his roommate's discomforting facial expression. "So what's wrong?" He questioned, still trying to figure out what was going through the American's head. Brock was a complex being, and Nogla had always known that, ever since he had met Brock.

"I just didn't think it would be so soon..." Brock trailed off. "This kind of thing just doesn't happen like this."

"Yeah well, now it does." Nogla got out through laughter.

"But I'm not going to be in Ireland for that long... What if it doesn't work out?" He continued to ramble on and Nogla just couldn't help but to keep scoffing at him over and over again. This was typical Brock, always overthinking and asking questions that weren't ever really relevant.

"Look Brock," Nogla interrupted. "I say that you should go for it. Quit making a big deal out of it... If he makes you happy, then that's it... And I already told you, you could stay here as long as you want!" The younger man was exasperated when he finally got it all out, and if Brock said one more thing, he was sure he was about to punch him in the face.

"I feel bad now..." Brock trailed off.

"Oh my god!" Nogla nearly yelled. "What now?"

"I left right after he kissed me."


	14. Chapter 14

Some time had passed, and before Brian knew it, it had been a little over a week since he'd last been in contact with Brock. And that? Well that was discouraging enough on its own. It was a real blow to the ego, and for the past week, the Irishman had done nothing but mope around his house, lost in his ever growing thoughts. Had he misread Brock's signals? He was sure after all the time they spent together, the older man had to have had some kind of feelings for him. That was why Brian had kissed him in the first place. But did all the banter mean nothing? All the times they went out for coffee or when Brock had to come spend the night at Brian's house? It was all too confusing. Did he like him? Or did he not like him? What the hell was going on?

And oh god, that kiss? Brian saw stars in his eyes. Sure, he'd only known Brock for a short amount of time... But it was never the time that was important, it was the connection, the feeling. The Irishman was absolutely and completely set in his mind that he liked Brock. But did Brock like him? That was the million dollar question. However, there was a spark, a strong connection that the younger man was sure that he'd never felt with anyone else before. Brock was it, and now, Brian was a bit bummed because he was set in his thoughts that he had scared the older man away. He didn't text or call, because he wanted to give him some space. If he had scared him off, then space was vital right now. He just hoped that eventually, Brock would come around. Or maybe sooner or later, Brian would just grow the balls and give him a call.

"Are you going to call him yet?" Nogla's voice was loud, obnoxious, as he stared at Brock who sat at the kitchen table with his laptop. He had finally managed to get some writing done, thanks to his free time away from the Irishman who had stolen his heart. "It's been a week, Brock. For fuck's sake..." He trailed off, shaking his head as he readied for another late night at work.

Brock sighed and saved his work, before shutting his computer. "Okay, it's not as easy as it sounds." His doe eyes drifted to his roommate, who was now standing in the living room. "What if he's mad at me? He kissed me and I just left... That's messed up." The older man had to admit, he did miss Brian. And having time away from him had allowed him to think about his future and what he truly wanted. Sure, he hadn't come here for a relationship... But this was a once in a lifetime thing. If he and Brian could work? Well then Brock was sure that he'd be able to adjust his lifestyle and living for the younger man. Plus, Ireland wasn't so bad, maybe he could stay here longer than planned. They would be a team, they would figure things out together.

Daithi brought him from his thoughts, "Well..." He drawled, "You'll never know if he's mad or not if you don't call." He shrugged.

Brock rolled his eyes, "Damn you Nogla... Why are you always right?"

"Because I'm the best." He answered with a smile, grabbing his keys and getting ready to leave. "I'm going to work. Call him." He gave his roommate a look before walking out the front door. The older man sighed, still at the table. Sometimes he really hated Nogla for always knowing the answers, always knowing just what to tell him. He had become so used to Brock's shit over the years, he just knew. And Brock? Brock knew he was right. He wanted oh so badly to call Brian, to tell him that he was just scared. In his head, it sounded okay, but he couldn't find the words... He didn't know what to say even if he did call him and blabber out whatever came out. He didn't know what to do as he picked up his phone and his thumb hovered over Brian's name.

The statue had been finished ages ago. Brian had been able to recollect from memory the older man's body. Now it just rested in his living room somewhere in the corner. He didn't like looking at it. It only reminded him of Brock, of the good times he had with him... Of all the conversations they had. A week was a long time, right? Brian shook his head at the thought. He was sitting on the couch, tossing his phone up in the air and catching it, debating on whether to dial Brock's number or not. Would he even answer? What would he say? His heart was beating so fast, palpitating, as he went back and forth, weighing the pros and cons. "Fuck it." He muttered, before calling the older man and bringing the phone to his ear.

Brock nearly jumped up from the kitchen table when his phone started buzzing in his hands. And his heart nearly vaulted from his chest when he read Brian's name on the screen. Without hesitation, he answered it. "Hello?" His voice was a bit shaky, but that was to be expected. He was nervous as hell, and he had no idea how this conversation with the Irishman was going to go.

"Brock?"

"Yeah?"

"It's me, Brian."

"I know," Brock got out, tapping his fingers on the table.

"Oh."

A few moments of silence lingered between them before both of them blurted out, "I'm sorry!" Their hearts were fast, and Brock couldn't help but to laugh at the fact that they had both said the same thing at the same time. It was clear to the both of them now that for the past week, they had been feeling the same way about things, and that all around, everything had been mutual.

"You first." Brian managed.

Brock sighed, unsure of where to start. "Well... Before we discuss things, I just want you to know that I didn't run away because I don't like you. I do like you!" He was anxious and he stood from the kitchen table, unable to sit any longer. "I just... We didn't know each other for very long, and this kind of thing just doesn't happen... And I don't know, it freaked me out when you kissed me." He was rambling and he knew it, but hell, Brian needed to know everything, he needed to know the whole truth. "But I've been taking this time away from you to think, and after talking to Nogla, I think everything's going to be okay. Like I said, I was just a little freaked out by the whole thing." Finally, he was finished, and he focused on the younger man's breathing to calm himself down.

"That's a relief." Brian answered. "I wanted to apologize for kissing you... I should have asked, or something... So I wouldn't have scared you away."

"It's okay." Brock found himself smiling.

The Irishman grinned, "Good. Now please tell me you want this as much as I want this." He was referring to their relationship, of course, because he wanted Brock like no other. He wanted the older man to be his and only his. He wanted to be able to kiss him, and hold his hand, and just spend time with him until eventually they would do more and more with each other. He knew Brock would have to leave Ireland sooner or later, but he was sure they could figure that out along the way. But right now? He just wanted to live in the moment; he just wanted to be with Brock.

"I want this as much as you want this." Brock's voice was simple, and he was happy; incredibly happy.

"Can I come pick you up?" The younger man asked, hesitantly, and he didn't even wait for Brock to confirm before he had grabbed his keys and was out the door. Not even twenty minutes later, he was outside of the house that belonged to Nogla and Brock with a huge grin on his face. Everything was going to be okay, everything was going to work out. And he watched as Brock exited the house and came to get in the car. It had only been a week, and they hadn't even been together yet, but still... They had missed each other, they had missed the presence, the sight of each other, just the time and memories they used to make. "Where to?" Brian inquired, looking over to the older man as he put on his seatbelt and got settled in the passenger seat.

"Anywhere." Brock smiled, puckering his lips to let Brian know that he was ready and that he wanted a kiss. Their lips met, and together? They were so good. Brock knew right then and there that this was the right choice. He and Brian were meant to be. So, he sat back in his seat while the Irishman drove them to wherever, content with the way things were and very excited for the future.

The night was full of restaurants and Brian parading Brock all over Dublin. They even went to the countryside to count the stars and spend time with each other. The whole time, they couldn't take their eyes off each other. It was almost three o'clock in the morning before they were on their way back home. "Does this count as our first date?" Brian broke the silence as he looked over at the man in his passenger seat for a brief moment before turning his attention back to the road.

"It can," Brock laughed.

"Was it a good first date?" There was a smile on his face when he spoke, playfulness in his Irish lilt.

"It was."


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: Hi guys! This is the last chapter/epilogue to this fanfiction, and it was so much fun to write! AngelZ of DarKness and I thank you all for reading, and I will see you all at the bottom!**

* * *

8 months later...

"Thanks for helping me pack up." Brock said as he taped up one of the many boxes in his bedroom. He stacked it along the wall with the others and continued the task at hand all while lost in his mess of a head. These past few weeks had been the busiest of his life it had seemed; what with the move, as well as the publishing of his brand new romance novel. There had been so much going on, it had all seemed like a blur. Especially what with Brian and Nogla at his side the whole time.

Nogla looked over at his once roommate, "It's not a problem..." He trailed off. "You know? It's about time you and Brian moved in together. You've been over at his place nearly everyday since you've gotten together." He was only being playful, but it was nearly quite the truth. Ever since their relationship began to progress, Brian's house was where Brock could be found. But, the tall man didn't blame him in even the slightest. It was like Brock and Brian were literally made for each other. They got along so well, almost too well if Nogla were being honest with himself. But when Brock was with Brian? The older man was his happiest, and because of that, Nogla was happy too.

The older man shrugged, not really able to think of a proper answer. However, he did change the subject. "It's going to be weird not living with you Nogla... God, this really does feel like college all over again." He let out a weird laugh. "I'm not trying to be sentimental, I swear... It just really does feel strange, okay?" He didn't want to say it out loud, but he really was going to miss his tall roommate... Even if he did drink out of the carton. Well, Brian did that too, so Brock guessed that he would just have to get used to it.

"Well it's not like you'll be far away this time."

"True." The older man agreed. After Brian asked him to move in with him, the two surprisingly decided to stay in Ireland. Brian was giving up his home in order to find something small and cozy for he and Brock to start their life together and be involved with each other. And they did; a very small house right near the countryside. That's when Brock sold his house back in America as well. The two were very excited, and that's why Nogla and Brock were packing Brock's things at the moment. He was helping him get ready for the move, and the rest of his things were being shipped from America sooner or later.

"I'll be able to come visit whenever I want, and Berenice too!" He smiled as he lifted the last box, then stood to admire the empty room, which would now be a guest room again since Brock would no longer be occupying it. "That looks like everything." He noted, rubbing the back of his neck. The stacks of boxes adorned the wall of the empty room, and again, it was a sort of nostalgic feeling.

"Brian should be here with the moving truck any minute." Brock replied, giving the room another once over only to make sure that he hadn't forgotten or left any of his belongings unpacked. So far, so good. Everything looked remotely ready for him to leave. And he had to admit, even though Nogla did get on his nerves every once in a while, he knew he was sure going to miss the big guy and his shenanigans. Brock had enjoyed living with him again for a short amount of time. It was bittersweet to say the least. But of course, he still wasn't going to admit that out loud to the asshole.

"Hey," Daithi interrupted Brock from his thoughts. "Your book tour starts next week, doesn't it?" He inquired, throwing the older man a look. The new book had been a total hit and success, especially for it being a romance novel.

"Yeah," Brock nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Brian and I are flying to America next weekend. That's where it starts." Even though his book had just been released to the stores, it had been promoted and well ready for. His fans had been anticipating it, and because of that, Brock's publisher had already managed to get a book tour up and running. Brock was going to be able to go to signings, interviews, as well as dramatic readings; all with Brian by his side. After all, the Irishman had been the majority of his inspiration. And to say that the book wasn't based on how their relationship came to be, well... That would be a lie.

"Oh I see," Nogla frowned. "Take your boyfriend and not your good college buddy..."

Brock rolled his eyes, "Do you and Berenice want tickets?"

"It would be nice, thank you for asking." Daithi replied, crossing his arms.

Brock was about to reply with a witty comment, when the sound of tires crunching in gravel outside interrupted his train of thought. "That's probably Brian." He said, and as if on cue, there was a knock, and then the sound of the door opening. His heart had managed to do some kind of flip or falter, because hell, it never failed to when his boyfriend was around him. Even after eight months of being together, it still felt like the first time all the time. That was the kind of love that Brock had always looked for, and now that he had it? Everything was content.

"Brocky?" Brian's voice echoed throughout the small home. "Are you ready?"

"All packed up!" The older man replied, coming out of the bedroom. Brian came into view, and ultimately, they kissed, all while Nogla gagged in the background, grumbling about public displays of affection. "Let's get these boxes in the truck." Brock continued, and everyone obliged. For the next ten minutes, the three men carried Brock's things out to the truck to pack it all away. Soon, it was all settled, and the once roommates were now saying goodbye to each other. "You can come visit whenever you want." Brock said, eyeing Nogla carefully.

Nogla chuckled, "Now you're not just saying that, are you?" He questioned.

"No, I really mean it." Brock smiled.

"Good." Daithi nodded, before patting his friend on the back. "You better go then, don't wanna keep you away from your... Boyfriend." He gave Brock a shove towards the door and watched as he left the house and climbed into the front of the truck where Brian was already waiting for him in the driver's seat. The engine roared to life, and a few minutes later, the couple were driving away on a lone road to the Irish countryside. There house wasn't that far away, but it was still a bit of a drive. Neither of them minded though. They just held hands and listened to the soft songs that came on the radio.

It wasn't until Brian interrupted the silence that there was any conversation. "You're sure about this?" He asked, glancing over to the man that he had come to know and love. After all, it was Brock who was giving everything up. But in his eyes? He wasn't losing anything, he was gaining so much more. For Brian, he would risk it all, and he hoped that after all this time they had spent together, Brian knew that. Still though, the Irishman was making sure to ask, because in situations like this, one could never be too sure.

Brock's eyes gleamed, "I'm sure about this, I'm sure about us."

"I love you." Brian replied, bringing Brock's hand to his lips to place a firm kiss there.

"I love you too." Brock said, smiling as the two drove off into the setting sun, and into the countryside.

* * *

 **Author's Note: And yay! We get a happy ending! This fanfic was never meant to be that long so I think 15 chapters is a good length. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and all that other good stuff. If you're into Terrornuckel, be sure to check out my other fics, as well as my tumblr. Hell, just check out my stuff in general, you might find something you like. I'm still taking requests, here, tumblr, wherever you can get a hold of me. Currently though, I'm working two jobs as well as taking summer classes, but I always find time to write. Again, thank you all, and until next time, stay fabulous. (:**


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